CHAPTER XXIX. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. I don’t think that the rest of the people here like us very well, do they, Arthur, so we’re obliged to be friends. I cannot tell you much about it, but my bad times are over for the present. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. . To prevent the recurrence of any such escape as that just described, it was deemed expedient, in more recent times, to keep a watchman at the top of Newgate.
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