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Kneebone,—pray go!" implored Winifred. Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. “It was only yesterday I had your letter, and you never mentioned coming over. “I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. ’ Trodger frowned, and chewed his lip. Which, let me assure you, villain, will not be so far away. “Mike, what’s going on?” She sat up, groggily rubbing her eyes. The assemblage was for the most part, if not altogether, composed of persons to whom vice in all its aspects was too familiar to present much of novelty, in whatever form it was exhibited.
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