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"D the sogers!" cries the Moocher, moved by a sudden inspiration. "They can but shoot yer, and that's as good as dyin' of typhus anyway!" The right chord had been struck now, and with a stifled roar the prison admitted the truth of the sentiment. "Go on, old man!" cries Jemmy Vetch to the giant, rubbing his thin hands with eldritch glee. "They're all right!"
"An' the bloomin' moocher was in the next room to mine, an' you got him. I was bloody well glad to get the five p'un' note you tipped me then. Stone broke I was." "You earned it," Ned replied. "It put me on me legs again," Hamblin went on. "An' I took ship an' come out to this blasted country. I wish I was on the Bowery again, blast me eyes if I don't." "What are you doing here?" asked Ned.
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