It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows. " And, dexterously applying the implement, he forced open the lock. "I'm surprised you've not asked that question before, Sir Rowland. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. “Will they worry about you getting caught in a storm?” She asked him as she viewed black clouds floating in different directions. "I'll make sure work this time," he added, about to repeat the blow. Not entirely. Die game.
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