"As I said before, I have little reliance upon professions of gratitude. “My dear Vee!” Her voice became very low. I'll lay my life he's gone. "That's for myself," rejoined Mrs. She turned up dead after about eight weeks and it broke my heart. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. ToC Monday, the 31st of August 1724,—a day long afterwards remembered by the officers of Newgate,—was distinguished by an unusual influx of visitors to the Lodge. There was, it might be said, a double illumination. CHAPTER XIX.
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