" "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted. Danger, in the form he apprehended, was lurking outside: nor was he destined to enjoy long repose. There was a time, long, long ago, when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr. Jonathan threw open the street-door. “She found my collection of witchcraft books under my bed and threw them away. ’ ‘Don’t count on it. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. ‘Do not imagine that I will leave poor Jacques. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him.
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