Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. "Fool!" he cried, "do you think I wouldn't have secured you before this if I hadn't some motive for my forbearance?" "And that motive is fear," replied Jack contemptuously. While you live in my house you must follow my ideas. " "Here he is!" cried Ireton, as the knocking was heard without. She ought to have written at once and told him exactly what had happened.
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