\" He said. Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. To-morrow, we'll go to the Fleet and get spliced. Like a petulant child he snapped. When he awoke it was late in the day, and raining heavily. In fact, it would not surprise me to discover that they were both Leonardo’s. The gale had become a hurricane: that hurricane was the most terrible that ever laid waste our city.
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