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Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. "I have it too!" exclaimed Hogarth, busily plying his pencil. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain.
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