Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. Arrived at Paddington, he struck across Marylebone Fields,—for as yet the New Road was undreamed of,—and never moderated his speed until he reached the city. The walls are too high, and the windows too stoutly barricaded in this quarter, to admit such a supposition. "Oh, nothing—nothing," returned Mrs. ” He hesitated, and went off at a tangent. "My lips would belie my heart were I to refuse you. "I guessed what was coming. "But, it strikes me, I've heard that Mrs.
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