Muffling up his face, Jack turned away; but he had not proceeded many steps when he heard a man reading aloud an account of his escapes from a newspaper. "My child!" he groaned faintly. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house. ‘Like you?’ ‘But I am not French. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. "Man, man! You're coming to life. But nothing followed to indicate that the liquid had stimulated the heart.
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