Guided by the glare of the forge, which threw a stream of ruddy light across the road, Jack soon found the place of which he was in search. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. By various twistings and turnings, during all which time his pursuers, who were greatly increased in numbers, kept him in view, he reached Gray's-Inn-lane. Entering the house, he found himself in a narrow passage leading to the back stairs. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. I believe he’s divorced.
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