ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. Arrived within a short distance of his destination, he came to a halt, and pointing out a dark court nearly opposite the woollen-draper's abode, told the chairmen to wait there till they were summoned. A trial always brings those involved into public notice, and I dare say he feels there will be scandal enough without adding to it. The manservant shall bring your trunks in and pay the fare too, if you like. I'm burning up. Wanting his coat, when he must have known that the pockets were empty! But the effort to talk had cost him something. Visible underneath his collar were some metal tags. Sepulchre's. Lucy? Come 177 on out.
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