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You love Ennison. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him. " "As many as you please," replied Wood, walking towards the chimney-piece, and taking down a constable's, staff, which hung upon a nail. Before her was a great Gothic portal. Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society. The Mohocks XII. " "There's no hurry. His statement was treated with derision. The Night-Cellar.
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