In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. ’ Rather to his surprise, she obeyed this injunction as he led her up two flights of stairs to the first floor. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. "Thus," replied the prize-fighter. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square.
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