"I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. W," said Mr. " In stepping across the room, some sharp point in the floor pierced his foot, and stooping to examine it, he found that the wound had been inflicted by a long rusty nail, which projected from the boards. Old saltwater was right. She let out a wail. I'm burning up.
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