A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. Amongst others, a person near the door, roused by the shriek, observed a man make his exit with the utmost precipitation. " "Marriage and hanging go by destiny," observed Wood, after a pause; "but I trust your child is reserved for a better fate than either, Mrs. Both of them would be committing novel and unforgettable acts.
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