Old Newgate. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. “I wonder if I’ve been properly brought up. Both had very singular faces; very odd wigs, very much pulled over their brows; and very large cravats, very much raised above their chins. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt.
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