I sometimes laid away my father's clothes in his trunk. The militia offered little in the way of relief. ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. "Has he escaped?" asked the thief-taker, faintly. "Out of the beaten track, with a real man for an employer? How would that strike you?" Interest shot into Spurlock's eyes; it spread to his wan face.
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