"Thank you," she said, and left the office. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. It forbids—all sorts of things. “I’d have to be blown up into a thousand pieces. Sheppard! when I see her thus, and think of all she has endured, of all she may yet have to endure, I could almost pray for her release from trouble. ’ Gerald frowned.
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