Sir John looked about him, and somehow the laugh died away. It would be too mortifying. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street.
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