I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. ’ ‘It’s no use you being superior,’ said Roding severely. He did not leave much of an 17 impression. "Master Thames Ditt—what's his blessed name?—has honesty written in his handsome phiz; but as to his companion, Jack Sheppard, I think you call him, he's a born and bred thief. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone.
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