’ ‘Oh, that tragic pair,’ uttered her ladyship in saddened tones. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. Here she would find candy awaiting her, bits of ribbon, books. “For I know that you love Ennison. A familiar figure was making his way towards them. It had evidently seen better days before being relegated to the ministrations of a hackney coachman, one who evidently served the less affluent inhabitants of London. "Red apples and snow!" he repeated. ” She said. CHAPTER XIX.
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