This time he couldn't get far. Life is two things, that’s how I see it; two things mixed and muddled up together. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. This gloom was impossible. Think! You could not have done it. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live.
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