"Five guineas. He has no imagination, no real generosity. The last of Jarvis’s harlots must have departed in a hurry, for she had apparently left a roomful of clothes. We have lived under the same roof, but our ways seem to have lain wide apart. Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following—not inappropriate strains:— THE NEWGATE STONE. ‘To go to these Charvill, it was not in my plot.
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