On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. Until he felt a sharpness digging into his coat at the point of his heart. I wanted to, that day in the Zoo. ” “Sure thing, kid. ‘This from a man who calls himself my friend.
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