Mr. Wood's. Behind the illustrious personages just described marched a troop of stalwart fellows, with white badges in their hats, quarterstaves, oaken cudgels, and links in their hands. It's almost incredible. I do not say guest because that suggests friendship; and I am no friend of this Wastrel. To reach the door they had to pass the end of the table, and behind the chair where Mr. "Dreamed!" echoed the knight, with a ghastly smile.
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