"He who stands on the verge of the grave, as I do, should never be unprepared. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. ” They returned to the crypt. To this Jack replied, that he should be perfectly contented, provided he might have a small allowance of gin. The future? He dared not speculate upon that. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. He stopped before her suddenly. His only warning was a gleam of silver in the faint spill of light from the house above. Wood will be intercepted. Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears.
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