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CHAPTER II.
THE DREGS.
Gwynplaine left the house, and began to explore Tarrinzeau Field in
every direction. He went to every place where, the day before, the tents
and caravans had stood. He knocked at the stalls, though he knew well
that they were uninhabited. He struck everything that looked like a
door or a window. Not a voice arose from the darkness. Something like
death had been there.
The ant-hill had been razed. Some measures of police had apparently been
carried out. There had been what, in our days, would be called a
razzia. Tarrinzeau Field was worse than a desert; it had been scoured,
and every corner of it scratched up, as it were, by pitiless claws. The
pocket of the unfortunate fair-green had been turned inside out, and
completely emptied.
Gwynplaine, after having searched every yard of ground, left the green,
struck into the crooked streets abutting on the site called East Point,
and directed his steps towards the Thames. He had threaded his way
through a network of lanes, bounded only by walls and hedges, when he
felt the fresh breeze from the water, heard the dull lapping of the
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