“No,” she answered, reluctantly. ‘Your master in?’ he demanded of the astonished footman, removing his cockaded hat and handing it over. He waved to her. Starting off at a rapid pace, Jack dashed down Turnagain-lane, skirted the eastern bank of Fleet-ditch, crossed Holborn Bridge, and began to ascend the neighbouring hill. It was surely odd that her thought should pick up that picture and recast it so vividly. “Tell her,” said Mr.
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