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"The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. Marvel was almost dislodged from his seat on the coffin by a dead dog, which was hurled against him, and struck him in the face. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. The beautiful city that she had been awed by and even grown to love had been abandoned. The neighbouring houses were tenanted by the lowest order of insolvent traders, thieves, mendicants, and other worthless and nefarious characters, who fled thither to escape from their creditors, or to avoid the punishment due to their different offenses; for we may observe that the Old Mint, although it had been divested of some of its privileges as a sanctuary by a recent statute passed in the reign of William the Third, still presented a safe asylum to the debtor, and even continued to do so until the middle of the reign of George the First, when the crying nature of the evil called loudly for a remedy, and another and more sweeping enactment entirely took away its immunities. " "Only three days," reiterated the widow, "three short short days,—and then all is over. It occurred to her that it was absurd and wrong to be so continuously thinking of one engrossing topic, and she made a strenuous effort to force her mind to other questions. Wood is now in very affluent circumstances. He pumped as she raised her legs obediently. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. “By Jove!” he exclaimed. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. Sister Angelina shook her head as if to say that such ignorance was beyond her.
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