" The Wastrel tried to reach Ruth's lips. I don’t want you to be sad. Mr. But her words were not addressed to Melusine. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. There were game watermen and game lightermen, heavy horsemen and light horsemen, scuffle-hunters, and long-apron men, lumpers, journeymen coopers, mud-larks, badgers, and ratcatchers—a race of dangerous vermin recently, in a great measure, extirpated by the vigilance of the Thames Police, but at this period flourishing in vast numbers. ‘Does Charvill know that this Melusine of yours is here?’ The question distracted Gerald.
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