On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. “I hope that whatever your plans may be, you will give me the opportunity of seeing something of you now and then. To her chagrin, he ignored her, and turned a venomous eye on his betrothed.
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