’ Gerald tutted. ’ ‘Get rid of the wench,’ Roding said brutally. Indeed, it was his boast that he could find his way through any part of London blindfolded; and by this time, it would seem, he had nearly arrived at his destination; for, grasping his companion's arm, he led him along a narrow entry which did not appear to have an outlet, and came to a halt. She will take me in until I can make some plans. He made a note of the idea and stored it away. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts.
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