’ ‘But I have told you I have not another dagger, even a little one. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. "Are you hurt, Thames?" asked Jack, anxiously. ‘Your mystery lady, I mean. “Who?” She asked. They travelled past the few idle sightseers who had braved the uninviting evening to see what the Suffragettes might be doing; they pulled up unchallenged within thirty yards of those coveted portals. A cry was then raised by the leaders to attack Wild's house, and the fury of the mob was instantly directed to that quarter. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps.
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