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"No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. Chapter XXIV A CASE FOR THE POLICE After that first horrible moment it was perhaps Anna who was the more selfpossessed. ‘Unless he is himself a man of substance. “You see, Vee,” said Mrs. Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER.
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