He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. " The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. “It’s all right,” he said, reassuringly to the inquirer without. The Rev. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it.
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