She took up a book and threw it down again. She came back with two women, one in each arm, which she threw down like sticks as she alit onto the stone causeway. She had followed a bobbing white hat and gray jacket until she reached the Euston Road corner of Tottenham Court Road, and there, by the name on a bus and the cries of a conductor, she made a guess of her way. "Where did you find it!" asked Wood. ” She disengaged herself from him and went out of the room with a grave, preoccupied expression. Paris was full, and it was by no means a retired spot which she had found. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. Poor little one.
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