Prepared as he was for a dreadful shock, and with his nerves strung to endure it, Jack absolutely recoiled before the appalling object that met his gaze. She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to assert itself with damning insistence. "Why, of hanging the fellow who acts as his jackal; one Blake, or Blueskin, I think he's called. He even hugged her a few times, something he had never done.
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