"It's a mercy you both escaped!" ejaculated Wood, only just finding his tongue. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. Spurling and Marvel rose too. "No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. I’ll come and see you again later on. As for money, Nigel has tons of it.
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