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" The words were scarcely pronounced, when Rowland disappeared. He slapped his knee. He had been quite right to sit down. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. I sha'n't cry any more. Wood, who had been absent on business during the greater part of the day, returned (perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier hour than was expected, to his dwelling in Wych Street, Drury Lane; and was about to enter his workshop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue from within, he began to suspect that an apprentice, of whose habits of industry he entertained some doubt, was neglecting his employment. “Perhaps for myself I do not mind, but this man is sure to find out some day, and he will not like having been deceived. " "What is it?" "That you give 'em to me. "And his lordship, furthermore, requests me to state," proceeded Sharples, in a hoarse tone, "that he'll be responsible for the doctors' bill of all such gem'men as have received broken pates, or been otherwise damaged in the fray—ough! ough!" "Hurrah!" shouted the mob.
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