“I see no reason why you shouldn’t. Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time. ” “Oh, Drummond’s dinner!” she repeated. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her.
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