Saint Giles's Round-house. By 12:30 a. I hear her coming. . One thing—he could be thankful for that—the peak of his misfortunes had been reached; the world might come to an end now and not matter in the least. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose.
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