"May come!—it will come!—it shall come!" cried the carpenter, shaking his hand menacingly at him. She closed her eyes, discerning the divinations he had been up to during her violin concert. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. By and by the tramp of horses' feet was heard slowly ascending Snow Hill, and presently a troop of grenadier guards rode into the area facing Newgate.
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