" "Devilish hard! I'm not allowed a chance," grumbled Austin, as he was left alone. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. Courtlaw. The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. A quarter of an hour passed. “You’ll be there, right?” She asked, hearing his breathing audibly jump.
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