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“Does Mr. "Why do you laugh?" he asked. “Hill has asked for you, and they will take his depositions to-night. Regardless as the gentry of the Mint usually were (for, indeed, they had become habituated from their frequent occurrence to such scenes,) of any outrages committed in their streets; deaf, as they had been, to the recent scuffle before Mrs. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed. Was he really awake? The arrival and departure of this strange father lacked the essential human touch to make it real. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility.
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