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The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor
and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat
slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in
the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. “You may call anytime. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s
many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that
surveyed its operations. “How could I, when your sister sings now at the
‘Unusual’ every night and the name ‘Alcide’ flaunts from every placard in
London?”
“The likeness between us,” she said, “before I began to disfigure myself with
rouge and ill-dressed hair, was remarkable. “Take off your tunic. Her back stiffened. The windows
were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance
of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his
huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly
demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. I consider even
now that the present colour is far less becoming. "With the help of his comrade, Jack
Sheppard, the young rascal made a bold push to get out of the round-house,
where my janizaries had lodged him, and would have succeeded too, if, by good
luck,—for the devil never deserts so useful an agent as I am, Sir Rowland,—I
hadn't arrived in time to prevent him.
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This video was uploaded to golfrealestateonline.com on 15-07-2024 04:33:06