” The lights were lowered, and an attentive waiter hovered round Anna’s cloak. Sheppard, you mean, Sir," interrupted his wife, ironically. A deep silence, however, now prevailed, broken only by the tolling of the bells of Newgate and St. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. . It was a letter.
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