“Your mother was a Gypsy. "Do you hear that! We are not wholly at fault. But we were both pledged to secrecy, and I couldn’t reveal my part for fear that I would lose my place. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. If you are going that way, why not join us. Tol-de-rol!" As Jack concluded his ditty, the door flew open with a crash, and Thames sprang through the aperture. ‘The credentials, milor’,’ he ventured.
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