" "A queer case;" and the doctor passed on. “Your mother was a Gypsy. I came to London to look for you, and somehow the figure I saw in my dreams had got mixed up with you. "I thought as much," continued Jonathan. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night.
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