The likelihood is that I shan’t see the wench again. ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. Sebastian sat smirking in amusement. Almost instantly she had recognized the fallacy of such a statement. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. The Disguise 261 VI.
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