And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. There was a discreet knocking at the door, and Ramage’s face changed. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. . “I say!” he cried. ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green.
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