” “You and I and Brendon get on all right, don’t we?” Sydney objected. Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. This was the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen cloth, through which the blood had oosed. "Good gracious! so I do," exclaimed his amiable consort. F.
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