Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane. "I should like to know where Mr. Kneebone, are these your French noblemen?" "Don't upbraid me!" rejoined the woollen-draper. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. As soon as Jack's escape became known, thousands of persons flocked to Newgate to behold his workmanship; and the jailers reaped am abundant harvest from their curiosity.
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