The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. “Too greasy for me. At length, I shall ascertain my name. “Cut her throat!” Sebastian snapped. "Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. Alban's to-night.
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