Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time. I never hunt the human tiger without being armed. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. Wood. The challenge gave her courage. "I've made no distinction between you, hitherto," answered Wood; "nor shall I do so, unless I'm compelled.
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