The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. Up to this moment, hopes had been entertained of a respite, strong representations in his favour having been made in the highest quarter; but now that his fate seemed sealed, the curiosity of the sight-seeing public to behold him was redoubled. A skeleton was propped against the mantelpiece. ‘You’d do the same. ‘Think it’s worth getting some sort of light and following her down there?’ asked Roding.
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