Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him. "I haven't worn anything else in weeks. She located her foster family. Don’t be frightened, dear. Wild, Captain?" remonstrated the other, in a deferential tone. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street. Old pupil. Don't worry about me. 47 was no more than a sort of railway compartment on the way to that.
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