We Spurlocks take our medicine, standing. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. "I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. A large body of the constables of Westminster next made their appearance, the chief of whom entered the Lodge, where they were speedily joined by the civic authorities. It slipped out—as did that “she”.
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