"I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. " "Beat out their brains, you mean," rejoined Blueskin with a tremendous imprecation; "no half measures now, Master. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. Wood rest till he brought the villains to justice.
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