Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books. As the secret door opened, the sounds within the house came at once to her ears: the tramping of feet above, and the hoarse voices echoing through the mansion. But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader. Oh! that Mr. Figg," replied Jack, smiling; "for, before I'm taken to Tyburn, I mean to borrow a shirt for the occasion from you.
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