"Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. She became aware of his presence as she had never been aware of any human being in her life before. We'll have some fun down there at my place, Spurlock; but we'll probably bore your wife to death. 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. “In the event of his death we should require you at once to attend at the inquest. The man, who was just able to move, pointed towards Giltspur-street. What do you know about her, Fred? I am interested. Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. CHAPTER II.
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