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But he had shown no desire for information, no curiosity. This was the reason he had raised his little independent Company of Light Infantry and joined the West Kent Militia. Jack had no sooner taken his place in the cart, than he was followed by the ordinary, who seated himself beside him, and, opening the book of prayer, began to read aloud. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. Something forbade him to draw her toward him and seal the compact with a kiss. The inn was a military haunt.
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