Vee’s all right. ’ ‘I’ve a good mind to leave the pair of you to it and take myself off,’ threatened his junior, marching across the room and snatching up a decanter. ’ ‘Who was to know if you would find your place?’ countered Martha. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. “But it makes me feel inhuman,” he added. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. Then, if you weren’t looking, he’d get five feet closer. Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. You cannot refuse me this.
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