ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. They watched the chimpanzees in the new apes’ house, and admired the gentle humanity of their eyes—“so much more human than human beings”—and they watched the Agile Gibbon in the next apartment doing wonderful leaps and aerial somersaults. His eyes never left her face. John looked at his feet bashfully. "The Captain has seldom much appetite," replied Blueskin, who, having disposed of the fowl, was commencing a vigorous attack upon the sirloin. Perhaps that is why I lost my ambition. "Come and sit down by me. If there is, it’s a mere wrapping—there’s better underneath.
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