She had never even brought a friend home in her time at the Becks, let alone been asked on dates. She said as much to him. 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. ‘Cajolery? This is not your style. “I thought you weren’t getting along so well with your mother these days.
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