Of late, however, his plotting had assumed a more dark and dangerous complexion. ‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. ’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features. “Yes, I have heard of him, and I know him by sight,” he admitted. She obeyed, extending her arm. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. ” Sir John, frankly oblivious of the possibility of passers-by, took her into his arms and kissed her. His face was downcast. Besides, Gerald would not for the world have passed up the chance of a little excitement. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. "Once in this chair, yer hon'r, and I'll warrant he'll not get out so aisily as Jack Sheppard did from the New Pris'n. Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time.
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