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It was a young girl who overheard me when I was on my third shopkeeper who answered my question. " "Do so," replied Kneebone; "but remember the door is locked. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. She felt herself getting into a corner. ‘Pray you, do me this one little service, and do not ask me why. CHAPTER XXX. Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time. "What did you ring for, Sir?" she asked, eyeing the group with astonishment.
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