"I hardly know," returned Jack; "but it's not safe for me to remain much longer here. So I dare say I was christened Jack. Lucy tried not to notice the starched smell, overpowering and powdery. Traversing Angel Court, and Green Arbour Court,—celebrated as one of Goldsmith's retreats,—he speedily reached Seacoal Lane, and pursuing the same course, which he and Thames had formerly taken, arrived at the yard at the back of Jonathan's habitation. From this night I shall pursue a different course; from this night his ruin may be dated. There was all the knavery, and more than all the drollery of a Spanish picaroon in the laughing eyes of the English apprentice; and, with a little more warmth and sunniness of skin on the side of the latter, the resemblance between them would have been complete. “And even then—” The conversation hung for a thoughtful moment.
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