His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. “The smallest will do for me quite well. “Would you stand it? I’m going to clear out. From her stomacher, to which it was attached by a multitude of glittering steel chains, depended an immense turnip-shaped watch, in a pinchbeck case.
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