"'Sdeath!" cried Jonathan, staring at the breach in the wall. One only. "I'll tote the odiousness outside. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. ” “What’s our lot?” asked her sister. Nothing disheartened by this survey, Jack set to work upon the lock, which he attacked with all his implements;—now attempting to pick it with the nail;— now to wrench it off with the bar: but all without effect. By various twistings and turnings, during all which time his pursuers, who were greatly increased in numbers, kept him in view, he reached Gray's-Inn-lane. ‘I know what it means, numbskull! Didn’t spend years in the confounded country without picking up some of their infernal tongue.
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