Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. "I should like to see whether Blueskin is a little more composed. I have pleaded with her—no wonder that I have pleaded with her in vain. As this seemed insufficient, after a lapse of five minutes, he added another hundred weight. A dissipated, loose-living man.
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