That for the men lay near the Lodge, with which it was connected by a dark passage. "Right!—right!" cried Jack, striking his fettered hands against his breast. Two or three podgy-looking old men with wives to match, half-a-dozen overdressed girls, and a couple of underdressed American ones, who still wore the clothes in which they had been tramping half over London since breakfast time. His eyebrows arched, knotting in the middle.
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