A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. The bedding was removed; Mrs. "No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. " "Faix, then we'll do it in style," cried the fellow. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive.
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