She barely heard a word that Martin or Brown said, until Martin’s voice chimed. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. "Hear me," he cried, restraining himself with difficulty. Wood governs me?" "It's plain you can't govern yourself, at all events," replied Jack coolly; "but, be that as it may, I won't be struck for nothing.
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