Accordingly, he stopped the coach, dismounted, and hastened towards the assemblage, which, he was glad to find, consisted chiefly of a posse of watchmen and other guardians of the night. Bring the light this way—quick! I cannot decipher the signature. Quite!” He sat in the arm-chair and took tea, and consumed several of the extra cakes which she had sent out for and talked to her and expressed himself, looking very earnestly at her with his deep-set eyes, and carefully avoiding any crumbs on his mustache the while. I’m a soldier, you see. ‘They weren’t no soldiers. The Night-Cellar XVIII. His name is John. Wow. I shall start at the bottom.
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