"Where are you going?" cried Thames, who, though wholly disencumbered, was scarcely able to keep up with him. Solomon Smith, chapmen, (or what in modern vulgar parlance would be termed bagmen) travelling to procure orders for the house of an eminent cloth manufacturer in Manchester. "Devil!" cried the widow, catching his arm, and gazing with frantic eagerness in his face, "how many years will you give my son before you execute your terrible threat?" "NINE!" answered Jonathan sternly. He tried this sentence with expletives. " "Faithful fellow!" murmured Jack. But Jack speedily burst it open with the iron bar. “You’re wanted for questioning, miss. “Good God!” he exclaimed.
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