The starling, on which the carpenter stood, was the fourth from the Surrey shore. Seeing provisions in the window, Jack ventured in and bought a loaf. "Despatch him!" roared Jonathan. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. Remember that he’s not at all a bad sort, and to speak frankly, he’s your salvation.
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