As soon as he was gone, the two women divested themselves of their hoods and cloaks, and threw them, as if inadvertently, into the farthest part of the angle in the wall. Manning? I suppose there’s a sort of place like a ticket-office. "Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. Having watched the funeral at some distance, Jonathan fancied he could discern the figure of Jack; but not being quite sure, he entered the church.
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