The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. "Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. ” He threw the stone protecting the crypt to one side. " "Won't my life do as well as his?" supplicated the other. “Mr. Wood," added she in a hollow voice, and with a ghastly look, "gin may bring ruin; but as long as poverty, vice, and ill-usage exist, it will be drunk.
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