He sent me home. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. I know my son's voice too well. I can pull the strings of this stiff-necked puppet as I please. Aha!" he continued, producing a short silver staff, which he carried constantly about with him, and uttering a terrible imprecation, "I see you're confounded. They must have a key.
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