The office is a sight—not one sheet of paper on another; bills and receipts everywhere. Over the gateway towards Snow Hill, were two strong wards, called the Castle and the Red Room. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield. As to Mrs.
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