Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards. “You poor little girl!” he cried. "Never—never!" The words were scarcely pronounced, when the door was violently thrown open, and two men appeared at it. Her steps slowed. But, taking the chisel from Blueskin, Jack quickly forced back the bolt. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. .
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