Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer. Do you want to kill us both? Stop the thing. "Only my darbies," returned Jack, clinking his chains.
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