The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. "No," replied Hogarth, hastily effacing the sketch. "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. "What of her?" exclaimed Jack, starting up. For many of them it will smirch us forever.
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