As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. But they were too late. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. “Useless—worse than useless. "Comfort yourself, my charmer," said Mr.
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