" And, with a few magical touches, he stamped the fleeting expression on the canvass. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. " "Spare him! spare him!" cried Mrs. “When did you get home last night, Lucy?” Cathy interrogated through a yawn. ” He fell back in his chair with an expression of tremendous desolation. We will go to Ostend by the early morning boat and choose a hiding place from there.
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