In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. “Let’s go in here. They sell only their talents, not their bodies; they are not girls of the street. Or, better still, put all my clothes in the trunk. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. Giles's, and other places—but I've nowhere seen any one who came up so completely to my notion of a first-rate housebreaker as the individual before us.
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