At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. Wood's, the carpenter in Wych Street. “Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. It had felt wonderful to pick up the fiddle again. And son of a pig,’ she grunted, baring her teeth.
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