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. She was consumed by misery and hate. I'm thinking that the Wastrel was one day a celebrated professional; and the women were partly the cause of his fall. But I give you this warning, and let it sink in. If I’m late again I’ll have to serve another detention!” She excused herself, hoping it was not too obvious she was running away. And for me there is only one treasure-house. I shall be very sorry if I cannot have you for a friend.
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