Hill lost a little of his truculency. “You won’t give me away, Anna. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. “I wouldn’t. She glared at him with satisfaction. —"A famous university," observes Ned Ward, in the London Spy, "where, if a man has a mind to educate a hopeful child in the daring science of padding; the lightfingered subtlety of shoplifting: the excellent use of jack and crow; for the silently drawing bolts, and forcing barricades; with the knack of sweetening; or the most ingenious dexterity of picking pockets; let him but enter in this college on the Common Side, and confine him close to his study but for three months; and if he does not come out qualified to take any degree of villainy, he must be the most honest dunce that ever had the advantage of such eminent tutors. ‘You said?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham, your great-aunt, miss. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. ‘What am I looking for?’ ‘A miniature. ‘Ah, non,’ exclaimed the husband. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. The Bitchster strikes again.
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