As he hesitated, unable to make up his mind what to do for the best, a heavy rumbling on the cobbles penetrated his absorption. Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. " "Leave us together, my good woman," said Jack, putting a guinea into her hand.
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