Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. She gathered up the chain, revealing a locket which had lain hidden in her bosom. He would discuss something she had been reading, and he would give her some unexpected angle, setting a fictional character before her with astonishing clearness. "But, though the storm has spared him, I will not. Occasionally he relit his pipe.
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