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A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. ’ The lady hesitated a moment, her eyes seeming to measure the distance between where he stood and the door. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. I often think of those delightful evenings in Paris. His father and mother are gone now. ’ ‘About me?’ The lady’s lashes fluttered and her fan came up. “I have had nothing since, and it seems a very long time.
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