" The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. "My horses, Charcam," he said, as a servant appeared. "It seems like six long months to me. “By Jove!” he exclaimed. For you know that I have made up my mind to dig a little way into life single-handed. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. ‘That’s not much comfort. ‘It is all the fault of that lantern.
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