’ ‘What?’ squeaked Kimble. “YOU had to come in. " And, followed by Abraham, he rushed out of the room. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered.
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