"There's his knock. "I'd lay down my life for yours. Wait!" He released himself from his aunt's embrace, ran to the trunk and fetched the old coat. Though within the last two days he had committed several heinous offences, and one of a darker dye than any with which the reader has been made acquainted, his breast was not yet so callous as to be wholly insensible to the stings of conscience. They fell into step again. Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER. He had sold half a dozen short tales to thirdrate magazines; but this letter had been issued from a distinguished editorial room, of international reputation.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 08-07-2024 16:30:16
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