But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. To-night we leave for Marseilles. " Starting at a rapid pace in the direction of the Old Bailey, and crossing Fleet Bridge, "for oyster tubs renowned," the trio skirted the right bank of the muddy stream until they reached Fleet Lane, up which they hurried. On approaching the couch, they found Sir Rowland senseless, and extended over the dead body of his unfortunate sister.
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