Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. Section 1. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. “You be off, missie,” said the fatherly policeman. “Vee!” said Miss Stanley, “you hear what your father says!” Miss Stanley struggled with emotion. He’ll survive.
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