There was another phrase which sounded something like 'Gin in a blue-serge coat'. In this state, he was laid upon a bench, to sleep off his drunken fit, while his wretched mother, in spite of her passionate supplications and resistance, was, by Blueskin's command, forcibly ejected from the house, and driven out of the Mint. Figg! In a few minutes, all will be over. You are wedged in amongst a crowd, perhaps in the promenade, you lean over the back, you are almost out of sight. .
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