I’m going up to London with the Widgetts to that ball. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. On receiving the warning note from the ostler, Jack Sheppard and his companion left Willesden, and taking—as a blind—the direction of Harrow, returned at nightfall by a by-lane to Neasdon, and put up at a little public-house called the Spotted Dog.
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