CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. ‘Wait! No time for that. ’ ‘No, of course you could not,’ Gerald soothed. But, as this produced no effect, and did not even elicit a groan, the prisoner was carried back to Newgate. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. There you are, the best client’s chair. "Hell-hounds!" he cried; "release me!" At the same moment, Quilt Arnold rushed forward with such haste, that, stumbling over William Morgan, he precipitated him into the grave.
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