’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. I'll be at the Cross Shovels in the course of the day. What has become of the other?" "Why, surely you don't mean Jack Sheppard?" cried the woollen-draper in surprise.
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