How's that strike you?" "Very well, sir. "Is it gold?" "Pure gold," replied Kneebone. The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church. Instead of which they walked sharply. An audible crack sounded in the kitchen and Mark slumped backwards, unconscious.
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