Jack's nose was broad and flat; Darrell's straight and fine as that of Antinous. It was a mass of knick-knacks. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. The arrival of the cart at the end of Field Lane, appeared the signal for an attempt at rescue.
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