But here the resemblance stopped. Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. Everybody, he felt, must be listening behind their papers. Even if you pretend sometimes to be without sense. " The Wastrel rushed. "And, oh! forgive me, though I can never forgive myself, for the misery I have caused you. " The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. ” “You—you did what?” Anna exclaimed. . .
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