” “Lady Ferringhall! Anna!” he exclaimed. It would not have interested him in the least to learn that the tub ran on two powers—wind and oil. “There’s twenty before you, and Mr. Stanley in person. Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time.
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