One called Waterman's Hall, a horrible place adjoining the postern under the gate, whence, through a small barred aperture, they solicited alms from the passengers: the other, a large chamber, denominated My Lady's Hold, was situated in the highest part of the jail, at the northern extremity. "Won't you sit down?" "I beg your pardon! Come into the consultation office"; and the doctor led the way. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. But d—n him! let's talk o' something more agreeable. Now, it won't do a bit of good to warn Spurlock.
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