"There's the exact expression I want. “Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up. The man who came to our rooms, you know, that night was his friend. Let me lie in Willesden churchyard. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. My garden-close would be a better thing than that. She could run away from him, if she wished, as she had run away from her father; she could carry out the original adventure.
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