” “And in Paris——” “In Paris,” he interrupted, “she was a very delightful companion, but beyond that —one did not take her seriously. “I’ve fallen in love. Without the inclosure were reared several lofty gibbets, with their ghastly burthens. Papillon would have broken him down; anything tender would have sapped his will; and like as not he would have left the stool and rushed into the night. A common rage flushed their faces. Love is one thing and friendship quite another. " "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same.
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