" "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. I have an idea that you are in some sort of trouble. The elements were wrathful as their passions. I have tried not to tell you—tried to be simply your friend. ” “How could you!” She exclaimed. It's plain he don't understand our lingo; as, how should he? Take pattern by me;" and as he said this he strode up to the carpenter, and, slapping him on the shoulder, propounded the following questions, accompanying each interrogation with a formidable contortion of countenance. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. "Stop thief!" roared Jonathan, who perceived the fugitive hurrying along a street towards Hatton Garden.
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