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The area was sparsely populated. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. I should be sorry if Shotbolt got the reward. I don’t defend it. " "It'll not need to be repeated, at all events," rejoined Jonathan, looking with a smile of malignant satisfaction at the body. "But I shall watch night and day about Newgate, in the hope of getting him out.
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