Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. There was a dreadful stifled groan, and she fell heavily upon the landing. ‘You, soldiers,’ she yelled. " "And leave you thus?" rejoined Jack. “I’d run away with you in a heartbeat. She had thought to wear it now, since she must look more the demoiselle. Peste, she had forgot the sword. Narrow little beady brown eyes, and she’s got big eyebrows like dead caterpillars. ‘All these soldiers,’ she complained, adding with a sweep of one arm at the major’s dress, ‘all of them in red as you. If I don't, you shall clap me in the Condemned Hold in his stead.
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