He conveyed not only his sense of the extreme want of correctitude in their unsanctioned meetings, but also that, so far as he was concerned, this irregularity mattered not at all, that he had flung—and kept on flinging—such considerations to the wind. He was holding the ring to the light, and narrowly examining the inscription. "But, where's the strange gentleman I saw under the table?" "Under the table!" echoed Blueskin, winking at Jack.
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