He drew a little sigh of relief. The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called the City of Oxford. "Come along, my sly shaver. You’ll never even see me again, for that 268 matter. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. " But this difficulty was only overcome to be succeeded by one still greater.
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