Marvel, then, took two iron weights, each of a hundred pounds, and placed them in the press. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. The guests congregated within the night-cellar were, in fact, little better than thieves; but thieves who confined their depredations almost exclusively to the vessels lying in the pool and docks of the river. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. His lips were tight drawn. “Did you see who that was?” he asked in a low tone. Gag him," he added, pushing Thames rudely toward Quilt Arnold, "and convey him to the boat. ” “Do you drink blood?” He stood up.
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