Sheppard, somewhat alarmed by this preamble. ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. “Look here,” he said, “I brought you here to make love to you. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. May I ask the nature of your interest in her?” He hesitated. Or, after all, is it worth while? The Channel is a little broader than the Boulevards— but one crosses it sometimes. She lifted her shoulders in an eloquent shrug. It was locked. "So did I," answered Jack; "we had better move on.
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