It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. He was about to cut the sergeant short, when his eye fell on a gentleman walking along Piccadilly, his manner uncertain, his eyes shifting as if he sought something out. " "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard. Jack affected to close the door, but left it slightly ajar.
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