“Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. " Her ear caught much of the lesson, and many things she stored away; but often what she heard was sound without sense. Nay, for aught I know, some of them may even now have got scent of me. Her mind left her. A glance satisfied Jonathan that the turnkey was not aware of the prisoner's escape; and he resolved not to destroy what he considered a good jest, by a premature disclosure of it. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him.
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