" There was a roaring in her ears like that of angry waters. I have only just left Wych Street. CHAPTER XXVII. If it came at all, it was as fleeting as the girl's smile. And, turning to his daughter, he gave the necessary directions in a low tone. “There’s no one here except me. What passed between them I cannot think—I dare not. Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter.
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