Kneebone, then, sat down to await the arrival of his expected guest. Manning’s handwriting, and opened his letter and read some lines before its import appeared. The inn was a military haunt. The Old Mint III. ” “I am not sure whether I feel inclined to scold or thank you,” she declared. Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an interest in their proceedings, with the crew by whom she was surrounded. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. For when this Joan said it, I had a memory.
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