Wood, I command you not to stir," vociferated the carpenter's better-half; "recollect you'll be answerable to me. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. ‘I’ll wager that militiaman never rode the animal, then. “Can you not understand? It is of no use your taking my identity and all the burden of my iniquities upon your dear shoulders if I am to be recognized the moment I show my face in London.
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