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"Stay!" said Jonathan, aiding his descent; "you had better take my lantern. However, it would only be robbing the hangman of his dues. "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. She thought me— filthy. In any case, there was no doing anything on a Sunday and Brewis Charvill, his main quarry, had gone out of town unexpectedly. " So saying, he violently shut and locked the door. Winifred's reception was kind, but more distant, and after the slight ceremonial she resumed her occupation. I might have told you the truth. Wood.
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