" There was a pause. " The Gate, which crossed Newgate Street, had a wide arch for carriages, and a postern, on the north side, for footpassengers. Coffee à la Turque wasn't so bad; but a guy couldn't soak his breakfast toast in it. Wood, in indignant surprise. Near the body, which, it will be surmised, was that of Abraham Mendez, two ruffianly personages were seated, quietly smoking, and bestowing no sort of attention upon the new-comers. ‘Allow me.
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