There must be something, one feels, in ideas that achieve persistently a successful resurrection. "I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar. Let her see what she could make here. She rapped again, louder. In consequence of the encouragement thus offered to dishonesty, and the security afforded to crime, this quarter of the Borough of Southwark was accounted (at the period of our narrative) the grand receptacle of the superfluous villainy of the metropolis. So many things she saw that her interest stumbled rather than leaped from object to object. His commissions this day would not fill his metal pipe with one wad of tobacco. His voice propelled her to cry even harder, so hard that she began to laugh behind her tears. "However, some one must look after the jail; and they're all gone but me.
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