‘Oh, you are making a game with me. Maggot was equipped in a light blue riding-habit, trimmed with silver, a hunting-cap and a flaxen peruke, and, instead of a whip, carried a stout cudgel. I wasn’t. There was no need to be afraid for me. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. She went to the table under the end window at which she had been accustomed to work, and found it swept and garnished with full bottles of re-agents.
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