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” “Sure thing, kid. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. "I dare not, Rowland," she answered. Ousted from his old retreat, the Cross Shovels, Baptist Kettleby opened another tavern, conducted upon the same plan as the former, which he denominated the Seven Cities of Refuge. Like most officers, he’d had it especially made, for a man who loved danger had need of a precision instrument of defence. But I can tell you who'll have the pleasure of hanging your father's son; and that's a person not a hundred miles distant from you at this moment—ha! ha!" As he said this, the door was opened, and Charcam entered, accompanied by a dwarfish, shabby-looking man, in a brown serge frock, with coarse Jewish features, and a long red beard. "I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. The letter will explain all. A sophisticated woman would have translated the tone as a caress. And at the sight something leaped within her. “You need not be alarmed,” he said.
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