“This is the slavery of the veiled life. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. ” “Did you say,” Sir John asked, “that the man’s name was Hill?” “Yes,” she answered. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. The little spot of rouge was vivid enough now by reason of this new pallor, which seemed to draw the colour even from her lips. Great sport, eh? To haul them back from the ragged edge. "But I soon shall be," returned Jack; "take these," he added, flinging the handcuffs against the wooden partition, "and wear 'em yourself. Perhaps at the first blush—it strikes you as odd. It struck the major that she was very young. Remember, if there's anything you'd like to get off your chest, doctors and priests are in the same boat.
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