He was a just man, and he did not care to start any thunder which was not based upon fairness. These were yarns! As he was about to slip the manuscripts into the envelope, something caught his eye: by Howard Spurlock. Slowly descending Snow Hill, the train passed on its way, attended by the same stunning vociferations, cheers, yells, and outcries, which had accompanied it on starting from Newgate. Captain Hilary Roding and his inamorata, Miss Lucilla Froxfield.
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