CHAPTER III. " "There's some one in the garden at this moment," cried Jack; "I saw a face at the window. Solomon Smith, chapmen, (or what in modern vulgar parlance would be termed bagmen) travelling to procure orders for the house of an eminent cloth manufacturer in Manchester. “It’s okay. " "Follow me, then," cried Thames, drawing his sword, and springing through the window. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter.
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