All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. "There, he's as safe as Jack Sheppard in the Condemned Hould," laughed the man. " "This way, sir. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. The man, who was just able to move, pointed towards Giltspur-street. Some had the dignity and the aloofness of a rock in the sea; and others were as the polished pebbles on the sands—one saw the difference of pebble from pebble only by close scrutiny. His deduction was correct that the beauty of Ruth Enschede could not remain hidden long even on a forgotten isle. But there was an abiding serpent in this Eden.
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