Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. "Of course, I haven't the least evidence that the boy has done anything wrong; it's what I'd call a hunch; piecing this and that together. Let her have her own way in all things, for she will always be just. It was his particular hobby, and the leisure he had to apply to it had given him a remarkable appraising eye.
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