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At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. “You seem to be taking our little joke more seriously than it deserves, Ferringhall,” he remarked. ‘Difficult, I grant you.
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