“So you’re the one my son has been talking about. I speak no harm of her. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. ‘It is all too probable that she would wish to change into lay clothing to escape recognition. “Stop,” he said. With this view he struck off into a narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small alehouse, over the door of which hung the sign of the "Welsh Trumpeter. Why is the door fastened? Open it directly!" "Are you alone?" asked Jack, mimicking the voice of Kneebone. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. " CHAPTER XIX. . And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. But he might have crept along the left side of the pier, and beneath the further arch; whereas, Wood, as we have seen, took his course upon the right. .
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