Part 4 MY DEAR VEE, he wrote. You are afraid—that here in London—I shall not be a success. Yet the fact remains that you do not understand me at all. Ain’t enough as I’ve got militiamen quartered on me this se’ennight, lazing about all day, eating me out of house and home and drinking my liquor into the bargain. “Permit me to offer you the English paper which has just arrived, Sir John,” he said, holding out a Daily Telegraph. I tried to jump, but he increased the speed. Squire and master. Jack paused for a moment, and found that his own adventures formed the subject of the ballad.
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