From the second descended Mr. The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. " "You trusted too much to your own skill, Jack," rejoined Thames. “Anna! What tragedy has happened, little sister? No lights, no supper, no coffee —and, above all, no Mr. If the boy was legging it alone…. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. There were three exit doors.
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