" "Farewell, Jack," cried twenty voices. “She can’t. He was a bad dog; he knew it perfectly; but where there was laughter, there was hope. " "Ay—ay," laughed Jonathan. But why this part of the plan now seemed to her quite unattractive was a question she did not care to examine too closely. " "And partly what else?" "I shall never tell anybody that. Sheppard's habitation terminated a row of old ruinous buildings, called Wheeler's Rents; a dirty thoroughfare, part street, and part lane, running from Mint Street, through a variety of turnings, and along the brink of a deep kennel, skirted by a number of petty and neglected gardens in the direction of Saint George's Fields.
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