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"I thought you'd have got rid of your ill-humour by this time. It had felt wonderful to pick up the fiddle again. The pistol, it was not loaded. "Take her," cried Jonathan; and, flinging the now inanimate body of the poor widow, who had fainted in the struggle, into the arms of Thames, he leapt through the window, and by the time the latter could consign her to Wood, and dart after him, he had disappeared. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate.

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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 23-06-2024 00:51:13

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