Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him. Supper was over. For although I must confess it reads very much like an application or a testimonial or some such thing as that, I can assure you I am writing this in fear and trembling with a sinking heart. ‘Well, this maid,’ went on Kimble eagerly, ‘and me, we gets to talking, see, and that’s how I knew he were off to this party. "I hope you don't imagine anything has gone wrong, Sir.
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