I worship you. It isn’t what I have been but what I am. ” “And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering upon his lips. Purney's hand-writing," said Jack, advancing, "and can at once decide whether this is a forgery or not. For a long time neither spoke again. Taking his way along East Smithfield, mounting Little Tower-hill, and threading the Minories and Hounsditch, he arrived without accident or molestation, at Moorfields.
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