Wood had retired to his own room, where he had just summoned Thames. “It’s about forty pounds. “I must go. I am not boring you, am I?” She raised her eyes to his and smiled into his face. For a few minutes he kept them at bay. He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room. In this state, he was laid upon a bench, to sleep off his drunken fit, while his wretched mother, in spite of her passionate supplications and resistance, was, by Blueskin's command, forcibly ejected from the house, and driven out of the Mint.
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