"Lean on me," said Jack. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. “They are coming past our table. "Search him and iron him afresh;" commanded Jonathan. She tried to keep her side up by declaring that he had put her into an impossible position, and he replied by shouting, “Nonsense! Nonsense! Any father in my place would have done what I did. " "Offer them my hearty thanks," replied Jack, waving his hand to the group, all of whom returned the salutation. Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen.
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