9. It was just upon the stroke of nine as he entered the Lodge, and Mr. "But never mind who, or what I am. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. Observing Spurlock's spellbound attitude, he clapped the boy on the shoulder.
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