But for him she might have been alive and happy. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. But if his frame was immature, his looks were not so. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. Close upon this came another thought. And let ush go back to our brandewyn, and hollandsche genever. Meysey Hill—never your wife. "Hurrah!" shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head.
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