One who—who—tres. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. They're gone into the next room. ‘It is all the fault of that lantern. Your face has flitted out of my watch-fire, and then I have been a haunted man. Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand.
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