In the middle of the little town stood the shop of a Jew dealer in old clothes. Hastily ascending these steps, Jack found the door, as he anticipated, locked. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. He breathed a little sigh of satisfaction. And the bedchamber, for which Melusine instantly headed, was almost bright. Wood in a sharp tone. That capitaine has arranged it all. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again.
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