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“Is that where you come from?”
“Yes.”
“Who and what are you?”
“I’m an orphan, and have been brought up by Mr. Jamblin.”
“And who is he?”
“A farmer; and one as thinks a lot on himself.”
“And you want to leave him?”
“Yes.”
“And seek your fortune in the great world, eh?”
“That’s it. You’ve just hit it.”
“Well, come, lad, sit down and let us have a bit of dinner together. You’re peckish, I ’spose, by this time?”
Alf drew from his pocket the two pieces of bread and the slice of bacon.
“Oh, you carry your prog with you, it seems. Not a bad plan. But just reach that basket—we shall find something better in that.”
The two commenced their repast.
“Where are you bound for after you’ve done for the day?” inquired Alf.
“For London. Whitechapel; it aint a haristocratic part, but it’s busy sort of place in its way.”
“I should like to go with you.”
“Well, then, you shall, youngster. So that’s soon settled.”
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
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PEACE IS INTRODUCED TO A GAMBLING CLUB.
Charles Peace as we have already signified, had become sated of the village in which he had led so reputable a life for a no very inconsiderable period; indeed, if we take into consideration the erratic and adventurous nature of the man, it is a matter of no small surprise that he should have continued to be a respectable member of society for so long a time.