“An uncle in New York is dead, and has left him loads of money. She reminded him of his linnet, when he gave the bird the freedom of the house: it became filled with a wild gaiety which bordered on madness. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. " "I've heard of him," replied Jack, impatiently. Bring your liveralong?" "I sometimes wonder if I have any—if it isn't the hole where it was that aches. Jack had brought away the bunch of keys which he had taken from Quilt Arnold, but, none of them would open it. Smith had never seen anything like it. Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March. "I have dreamed that I shall see him before I die," she rejoined.
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