The pole-chair caravan resumed its journey. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. "You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door. ’ ‘Well for him,’ remarked Captain Roding. ‘Certainly you are imbecile. The Bitchster strikes again. On Saturday he went to that there Mr Charvill’s house. Left alone with Edgeworth Bess, Jack burst into a loud laugh of exultation.
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