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" "Mr. . And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard. She surveyed accommodation that seemed at first merely austere, and became more and more manifestly inadequate as the moments fled by. The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket.
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