Lives by his wits and gambling. He saw Enschede, making the empty sea, alone, alone, forever alone. "Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly transfixed by some inner glory. It was the blood she found that cemented her decision that her foster daughter was a criminal. "Or the street," returned Jack: "mind my words, the prison's not built that can keep me. I'll remember that.
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