" "My negligence, Mr. “Take off your tunic. He went over his interview with her again, their conversation at dinner-time. There he sat as before, with the heavy fetters on his limbs, and beside him sat his three companions, who had since expiated their offences on the gibbet. I’m the sort of dog, if you turn it out of the room it lies down on the mat at the door. He followed. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest.
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