‘Now then, my lad, you’re under arrest you are. His voice now had lost its ironies. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. She always dawdled, so it was easy. " "I knew it," rejoined Wild, with concentrated rage; "and he escaped you all, in broad day, before your faces.
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