ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. “Ass!” he went on, still warming. " "My strength fails me," gasped the fugitive. Has she any funds?" "She must have. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. Manning, in an earnest voice, and waved his hand to the alley of mauve and purple.
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