He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. It did so well that they sold it in the nineties. She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. "But I soon shall be," returned Jack; "take these," he added, flinging the handcuffs against the wooden partition, "and wear 'em yourself. But I have two hundred thousand pounds. It took all my self control not to let my hands wander.
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