Spurlock bent his head to his knees. "But—sapperment!—I wish they hadn't broken my pipe. Ha!" exclaimed the stranger, as shouts and other vociferations resounded at no great distance along the thoroughfare, "not a moment is to be lost. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. Lucy jammed her foot down onto Mark McCloskey’s forehead. " The Gate, which crossed Newgate Street, had a wide arch for carriages, and a postern, on the north side, for footpassengers. I find it impossible to associate you with—my little friend of the ‘Ambassador’s.
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