" "Hold!" interposed Winifred, gravely. " "Most likely," observed Jonathan, with a slight sneer; "the ghost of some highwayman who has just breathed his last in Newgate, no doubt. Kneebone," she added, drawing up her magnificent figure to its full height, and making the heavy cudgel whistle through the air, "look to yourself. Please to let me go there. You must always shave and part your hair straight. I have something that weighs heavily upon my mind.
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