ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. "I never told anybody," she went on. “It was only yesterday I had your letter, and you never mentioned coming over. Mind, when we were all growed up, it were different. But don't thank me; thank Miss Enschede. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had.
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