" "Where—where?" cried Thames. Better they should find the so-called Valade. I've left mine on the spikes of the New Prison, and must borrow yours. In all his life he had never realized a dream; but the thought had never before hurt him. Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited, on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of pink kid gloves, bordered with lace, and an enormous fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamorphosis and death of Actæon.
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