"I half suspect this is a highwayman," thought the Jew; "he's so ready with his cash. He was not used to not getting his way. Let us stay the night here. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. But we've got to cook up some kind of a story to protect her.
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