‘And I don’t mind telling you it goes agin’ the grain with me to let you go free and all, missie. Earles,” Anna said. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. As they neared the house, Jack Sheppard, who led the way, halted and addressed his companion in a low voice:— "I don't half like this job, Blueskin," he said; "it always went against the grain.
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