The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. The woman shrugged her shoulders. "Whose house do you want, master?" said the man, touching his hat. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. As he approached the gable of Mrs.
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