Figg, the noted prize-fighter, from the New Amphitheatre in Marylebone Fields. At this juncture, and just as a cuckoo-clock in the corner struck sis, Jack Sheppard walked into the room, with the packing-case under his arm. “I remember when you walked me home. ‘I never met a rat what wandered about the place with a lantern, I didn’t,’ grumbled the old lodgekeeper aggrievedly.
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