‘Where is there that I can go?’ All at once Alderley felt acutely suspicious. Plainly. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. He found a coach at the door, with the blinds carefully drawn up, and ascertained from a tall, ill-looking, though tawdrily-dressed fellow, who held his horse by the bridle, and whom he addressed as Quilt Arnold, that the two boys were safe inside, in the custody of Abraham Mendez, the dwarfish Jew. We can get absorbed in play, in games, in the business we do.
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