There’s that old gentleman at the end of the table—Bullding his name is. "Would you rather be alone?" "No. "Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house. Ed.
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