ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. Don't lay it all to the boy. They know only that the Valades have practised an imposture which affects all society, and some will think your adventures excessively romantic. Now it is—’ ‘What are you doing still here, missie, that’s what I’d like to know?’ demanded the man Trodger, sticking to his guns. He laughed.
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