Who walked you home?\" Mike asked her, his voice tinged with jealousy, as she passed the garlic bread. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. When she got home to her lodgings that evening she reflected with something like surprise upon her half-day’s employment, and decided that it showed nothing more nor less than that Capes was a really very interesting person indeed.
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