She shook her head, almost breaking a smile. \" Lucy obliged her, walking back to the entryway and slipping off the loafers. “It’s—private. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. Here, might be seen a poor fellow whose teeth were knocked down his throat, spluttering out the most tremendous menaces, and gesticulating like a madman: there, another, whose nose was partially slit, vented imprecations and lamentations in the same breath.
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