The grim mockery of it!—those South Sea loafers, taking advantage of Enschede's Christianity and imposing upon him, accepting his money and medicines and laughing behind his back! No doubt they made the name a byword and a subject for ribald jest in the waterfront bars. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. I am come to serve you. The Jacobite. —I'll soon find you out. Stop! we must shut the door, or they'll catch us. He smiled inwardly.
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