He occupied one of the smaller houses near the station. Marvel, who had been a little discomposed by the treatment he had experienced on Holborn Hill, very composedly filled and lighted his pipe. Taking off his stockings, he then drew up the basils as far as he was able, and tied the fragments of the broken chain to his legs, to prevent them from clanking, and impeding his future exertions. Well, this was the side of the world where things like that happened. He felt the first sting of the whip. “But was it wise to sing to-night?” “Why not? The man was nothing to me. “My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension.
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