After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. “I’m covered. " "We'll see that, young hempseed," replied Sharples, shutting the hatch furiously in his face, and locking it. "You're on," said O'Higgins. Give me your hand. " So saying, he closed the lantern. Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road. “What the hell. It's only a gentleman come to offer you his hand.
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