"It's wretched enough, indeed, Sir," rejoined the widow; "but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold stones and open streets. If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him. Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. Kneebone,—pray go!" implored Winifred. ” The dinner came to an end at last, and the whiskered waiter presented his bill and evacuated the apartment and closed the door behind him with an almost ostentatious discretion.
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