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It was the grand nursery of vice. CHAPTER I. ‘Do not imagine that I will leave poor Jacques. The Goopes were the oddest little couple conceivable, following a fruitarian career upon an upper floor in Theobald’s Road. No, don’t interrupt me. See what you have made of me. Then he turned on his heel and walked off. “What’s that young lady’s name—girl in dark brown, stranger here?” Mr. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. It’s just because all that side of your life hasn’t fairly begun.
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