For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted. He, who had faced the gale, would have been instantly stifled. The decision had been sound. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green.
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