Traps, set with peculiar cunning; she had encountered them everywhere. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. See? You marry me. Stop! we must shut the door, or they'll catch us.
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