On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing. "You are my prisoner, Jack. ‘You see, Melusine, that none of our visitors were as informed as they would wish to be. "Thanks to you," said the doctor.
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