E. Sheppard, who had again looked round towards her son, beheld a hand glance along the side of the woollendraper. However, as things have turned up, it's fortunate that I came back. The clanking of chains, the grating of locks, and the rumbling of bolts must have been music in Jonathan's ears, so much pains did he take to subject himself to such sounds. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being.
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