The point is, Spurlock was coming along: queerly, by his own imagination. " "And what should a young man like this one have to forget?" Prudence demanded to know. Spurling was no longer allowed to visit him; he was again loaded with irons; fastened by an enormous horse-padlock to a staple in the floor; and only allowed to take repose in a chair. Taking his way along East Smithfield, mounting Little Tower-hill, and threading the Minories and Hounsditch, he arrived without accident or molestation, at Moorfields. Come along, my Newgate bird!" he continued, shaking him with great violence.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjE3OS4yNTIgLSAxMy0wNi0yMDI0IDE5OjQ5OjE0IC0gODA3NzE3ODc0
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