“I’ve fallen in love. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. These thoughts, however, came to a broken end. Empty, silly, coarse brutes. On receiving the warning note from the ostler, Jack Sheppard and his companion left Willesden, and taking—as a blind—the direction of Harrow, returned at nightfall by a by-lane to Neasdon, and put up at a little public-house called the Spotted Dog. I give myself to you. There was a huge desk of heavily carved ebony at one end, and at the centre, a couple of straight-backed chairs stood before a great fireplace at the outer wall, flanked by two bookshelves with casement windows above. ‘Very wise,’ he commented, slightly relaxing his arm. I have found you. Her eyes fell, and then sought his again with timid interest. Answering him was agonizing. He stooped to recover it, and his face was hidden.
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