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She regarded him coldly, as though wondering whether he had anything further to say. ‘Of course not,’ snapped his friend. Meantime, the Stone Hall was crowded by all the inmates of the jail, debtors, felons, turnkeys, and officers who could obtain permission to witness the ceremony of the prisoner's irons being struck off. While he was filling his pockets with golden coin from this store, Blueskin had pulled the plate-chest from under the bed, and having forced it open, began filling a canvass bag with its contents,—silver coffee-pots, chocolate-dishes, waiters trays, tankards, goblets, and candlesticks. ‘It is in no way your affair, monsieur, and you will unhand me at once.
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