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ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour. She was now permitted freely to study the face. ‘You are not the only one to seek them out,’ he said. Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane.
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