Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. The young lady in the bureau said she would inquire, and Ann Veronica, while she affected to read the appeal on a hospital collecting-box upon the bureau counter, had a disagreeable sense of being surveyed from behind by a small, whiskered gentleman in a frock-coat, who came out of the inner office and into the hall among a number of equally observant green porters to look at her and her bags. Goodbye. His shirt also was unbuttoned, and disclosed a neck like that of an ox, and a chest which might have served as a model for a Hercules. My reception at West Kensington you know of. “I don’t know why. ” “Until some one takes pity on me and marries me?” He raised his eyebrows in mild appeal. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper.
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