Arrived at Paddington, he struck across Marylebone Fields,—for as yet the New Road was undreamed of,—and never moderated his speed until he reached the city. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. . . She felt sleepy and unusually irritable. " "To be sure you are," replied Jonathan, laughing. The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. And now— I suppose I should be considered too old.
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