"Two hundred pounds, if he's lodged in Newgate before to-morrow morning," continued Wild. Immediately Spurlock began to chant one of these. " "You might trust me," said Rachel, in an offended tone; "but never mind. Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light. ‘You the fellow Gerald spoke to?’ Kimble flushed beetroot, and Melusine had a flash of insight. The young man was mollified by her sympathy, and flattered by the obvious attempts of several of the other guests to draw him into conversation.
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