The violence of the collision nearly threw him backwards, and caused him to swerve as he sprang. He found, however, that now the time had come he utterly lacked the courage to attempt any such speech. "No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. ‘Oh, ah. ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green.
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