ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. He went in and leaned, panting, against one wall. This unexpected interpolation might spoil the efficacy of all that had gone before. ” “Yes, yes. Old Lancashire families both. It will be his interest to do so. At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally.
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