" Half an hour later she laid aside the book. She began to weep in long, aching sobs. She struggled not to be afraid. Brendon dismissed the subject with a wave of the hand. ‘Dead then, is he?’ ‘If I could say that he is dead, it would give me very much satisfaction. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. " "I've no intention of stirring," replied the woollen-draper, who was thus unceremoniously disturbed: "and I beg you'll sit down, Mr.
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