It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. ’ ‘Yes, but what is it, Jacques?’ demanded the lady. ‘You make a game with me, I think. “Mr. Jack now carefully closed the shutters, while Blueskin struck a light, with which he set fire to a candle. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain.
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