It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith. "Then, by Heaven! you are a dead man!" replied Jack, cocking a pistol, and pointing it deliberately at his head. I stole away and walked to the railway station. Jack's former attempt to pass up the chimney, it may be remembered, was obstructed by an iron bar. ‘Don’t put me at the necessity of marrying the abominable little wretch. Not Trodger.
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