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. Sharples," replied Quilt; "lock 'em up. Surely it was a dream. ‘If it is that your men there are going to arrest us, then why do they not do so?’ ‘Left to myself, I’d let them,’ he replied grimly. He changed his mind however, and simply motioned to her to proceed.
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