"That was the lad's name," returned the stranger. The subterranean level of the Diedermayer house was fully bedecked with every luxury known to mankind. Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. Let me see my child, if he is really here?" "Behold him!" returned Trenchard, taking Thames (who had been a mute, but deeply-interested, witness of the scene) by the hand, and leading him towards her. I—listen. She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read Manning’s letter. I keep it for my own drinking," he added in a lower tone. ’ ‘Who, Joan, who? Of whom do you speak?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham. He's the most daring and expert housebreaker that ever used a crow-bar. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. The above description of —the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains Sole monarch acknowledged of Mary'bone plains— may sound somewhat tame by the side of the glowing account given of him by his gallant biographer, who asserts that "there was a majesty shone in his countenance, and blazed in his actions, beyond all I ever saw;" but it may, possibly, convey a more accurate notion of his personal appearance.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 07-09-2024 10:57:54
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