A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. Ah Cum had no business taking him into the city last night. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. It was a dull, foggy day, and the atmosphere was so thick and heavy, that, at eight o'clock, the curious who arrived near the prison could scarcely discern the tower of St.
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