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Updated: May 11, 2025
The houses on either side were, for the most part, dingy-looking edifices, with half-doors, and such pretensions to being shops as the display of a quart of meal, salt, or string of red peppers confers. A more wretched, gloomy-looking picture of woe-begone poverty one seldom beheld. It was no better if they turned for consolation to the rear of the house.
What was the object and intention of this performance she did not disclose, but when she had kneaded his unfortunate skull to her satisfaction, she bade him step to the window and look into the tube. This he did, and he saw a very dingy-looking daguerreotype of a fair-haired damsel with blue eyes, who bore, of course, not the most distant resemblance to any lady of his acquaintance.
Silently they waited, as Duncan thrust his hand under this growth of dry grass and weeds, where he said he had put the gold, and with surprise and joy they saw him draw forth the identical dingy-looking canvas bag. Exultantly he held it aloft, and then placed it in the hands of Mr. Welton, who, on opening it, found the shining gold pieces, and the mystery of the missing money was solved at last.
It was done in an instant. A box covered with a great red cross a dingy-looking crown lying on the top of it Seamen on one side and Invalids on the other they had passed in an instant and were up the aisle. A faint snuffling sound, as before, was heard from the officiating priests, but we knew of nothing more.
Near it was a small chapel, distinguished by a cross; and a long, low, brown-looking building, surrounded by something like a palisade, from which an old and dingy-looking Chilian flag was flying. This, of course, was dignified by the title of Presidio.
It was a dingy-looking town, with a strong smell of tanning up one street and a great shaking of hand-looms up another; and even in that focus of aristocracy, Friar's Gate, the houses would not have seemed very imposing to the hasty and superficial glance of a passenger.
Mr. Dunbar left his cab at the Holborn end of the street, and walked slowly along the pavement till he came to a very dingy-looking parlour-window, which might have belonged to A lawyer's office but for some gilded letters on the wire blind, which, in a very pale and faded inscription, gave notice that the parlour belonged to Mr. Isaac Hartgold, diamond-merchant.
We had pooled issues and one man had all the money in the party. Our wallets and watches and jewelry were left behind. It was nearly midnight when we started, and half an hour later when the carriage drove us up in front of a dingy-looking double doorway, from which the light was streaming. The walls around were black; no light anywhere except that which came out of the open door.
He was in Wardour Street at a quarter before seven, but he had considerable trouble in finding Queen Anne's Court, and the clocks of the neighbourhood were striking the hour as he turned into a narrow alley with dingy-looking shops on one side and a high dead wall on the other.
They had passed it once before, but the name on the side of the door was so obliterated by time that it was scarcely legible. "Now, Owen, you go in, and success attend you," said John, shaking him by the hand, as if they were about to separate for an indefinite period. "Do not be afraid, I will not desert you!" Owen, mustering courage, entered the dingy-looking office.
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