How Jonathan Wild's House was burnt down. " "Nonsense!" "Something's wrong. "'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely. The fanatic has no such word in his vocabulary. At last, a little way to the northward of Euston Road, the moral cloud seemed to lift, the moral atmosphere to change; clean blinds appeared in the windows, clean doorsteps before the doors, a different appeal in the neatly placed cards bearing the word ————————————— | APARTMENTS ————————————— | in the clear bright windows. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace.
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