ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. “I am giving my understudy a chance. There must be ways of getting rid of him. So you are Prudence Remenham. Maggot, dealing him a buffet that sent him reeling several yards backwards. She fell into a pleasant dream of positions and work. Glad you're home safe. Anticipating this, Wild avoided the shot by suddenly, ducking his head. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. Jackson, I could almost fancy we had met before.
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