ToC Monday, the 31st of August 1724,—a day long afterwards remembered by the officers of Newgate,—was distinguished by an unusual influx of visitors to the Lodge. There!" Out of the dark unruffled sapphire of the lagoon came vertical flashes of burning silver, singly and in groups. It's all your fault, you shaking coward! and, but that I feel sure you'll swing for your carelessness, I'd throw you into the well, too. It was eleven o'clock.
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