It was the blouse that gave Lucy away. "Let me have a word with the cull!" "Ay! ay!" cried several of the bystanders, "let Jonathan kimbaw the cove. If ever she felt fatigue in these long tramps which had already taken her half over London, she never admitted it. Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free.
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