"Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. "Too late, master," replied the landlord of the Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop. ” She said under her breath. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault. I burned it. Return to him, I say—" "I can't," replied Jack, doggedly.
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