He had a wild impulse to shout. "Always plenty to spare. Your glove will suffice. I'll be at the Cross Shovels in the course of the day. Springing to his feet in an ecstasy of terror, he stumbled, and had well nigh realized his worst apprehensions. Ah! I have it," he added, after a moment's deliberation; "he's there, I'll be sworn. Not a job he may care about; but he's a good sport. We'll come back for that by and by, and the dressing-gown.
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