The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition. ‘The old man who lives here, idiot. “Good, I’m so glad, Lucy. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. There was nothing of the phenomenon in this. A dressing-room then.
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