He says only that he must tie up all the loose ends. Spurlock went, it would not be far enough. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. ‘I am nine-and-twenty,’ he answered.
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