It ought never to have begun. “Neither you nor I, Nigel, are made of such stuff,” she answered. There were game watermen and game lightermen, heavy horsemen and light horsemen, scuffle-hunters, and long-apron men, lumpers, journeymen coopers, mud-larks, badgers, and ratcatchers—a race of dangerous vermin recently, in a great measure, extirpated by the vigilance of the Thames Police, but at this period flourishing in vast numbers. It was then, I am sure, empty. He was completely, devastatingly handsome.
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