To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. " "Hadn't Jack better go with us?" said Thames. The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. It was enough that she witnessed it and could not go to him. “And how did you find us here?” “I called at Montague Street a few minutes after you had left. All superfine holland.
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