While I am talking about your friends, I feel—I think you ought to know how I look at it. I——” She threw herself into an easy chair. ’ ‘Fancy my old pa thinking you was a French spy. I sat within a few feet of him. What about them?” He called a hansom. Essentially the talk was a mixture of fragments of sentences heard, of passages read, or arguments indicated rather than stated, and all of it was served in a sauce of strange enthusiasm, thin yet intense. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. Tears began to stream from her cheeks. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth.
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