His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. "The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. " "Yon ask impossibilities," replied Jonathan, sullenly. The evenings were dulcet and soft. " "Where are they?" "Ay, where are they?" chorussed the mob, flourishing their various weapons, and flashing their torches in the air; "we'll starve 'em out. " "Pshaw!" cried Thames. " "Can you make me honest?" cried Jack.
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