Now, listen." Instinctively his voice grew lower.

"This slavery in which you find yourself must be singularly irksome to a man of parts such as yourself." "What intuitions!" cried sardonic Mr.Blood.But the doctor took him literally.
"I am no fool, my dear doctor.

I know a man when I see one, and often I can tell his thoughts." "If you can tell me mine, you'll persuade me of it," said Mr.Blood.
Dr.Whacker drew still closer to him as they stepped along the wharf.

He lowered his voice to a still more confidential tone.

His hard blue eyes peered up into the swart, sardonic face of his companion, who was a head taller than himself.
"How often have I not seen you staring out over the sea, your soul in your eyes! Don't I know what you are thinking?
If you could escape from this hell of slavery, you could exercise the profession of which you are an ornament as a free man with pleasure and profit to yourself.