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When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. He it was who formed the grand design of a robber corporation, of which he should be the sole head and director, with the right of delivering those who concealed their booty, or refused to share it with him, to the gallows. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. “I thought that I heard a groan,” Anna whispered. “You may find in it a paragraph of some interest to you. Their conversation became stilted. ” “Your knowledge of our ways,” he murmured “is profound. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. It was no use. ” “It is ironic that you say that, John, for it is I who am afraid of you.
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