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’ ‘Well, let us leave your name for the present. At the gate opening upon the road leading to Dollis Hill were stationed William Morgan and John Dump. I must go and dress at once. They were both conscious, however, that something had intervened between them. "I had one," answered his sister, in a mournful voice; "and, perhaps, I have one still. We’ve brought a carriage to take you back to London, and I’ve settled with Trodger, who has just given me a coherent account of the affair. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors.
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