” It was her last evening in that wrappered life against which she had rebelled. The hand which the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side. “I supposed that he took off his hat to you. Mr. Up to this moment, hopes had been entertained of a respite, strong representations in his favour having been made in the highest quarter; but now that his fate seemed sealed, the curiosity of the sight-seeing public to behold him was redoubled. You can’t do without an agent, and there’s no one can run you better than I can. ’ ‘I’m afraid you are right. She hesitated about her name, and, being prompted, gave it at last as Ann Veronica Smith, 107A, Chancery Lane. It was eleven o'clock.
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