The books would be soaked and ruined in the rain anyway through the thin skin of the pack. ‘That there governess didn’t like it, of course, me being the lodgekeeper’s girl, and Martha just a country wench like me. During the narration Jack's features lighted up, and an expression, which would have been in vain looked for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the skilful artist. "You had better let me convey her to Dollis Hill," he said. As sure as he is now living, I'll pay him a visit in the Old Bailey before morning.
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