ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. Somehow logic could not explain her. If there were any pearls, none came into the light. Having made a hole in the wall sufficiently large to pass through, Jack first tossed the bar into the room and then crept after it. He touched her breast as if he was testing the waters of a cold lake. He hesitated.
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