ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. Sudden indignation boiled up in him. He was now aided with a powerful implement, with which he soon contrived to make a hole in the wall. These two elderly ladies would call her stark mad. Gosse was backing towards the table. In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. He returned, blue towel in hand. “It was only yesterday I had your letter, and you never mentioned coming over.
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