Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. " "What a strange history is mine!" said Thames. “You were born for great things,” he said huskily. There is the key. She remembered possessing it during the Gold Rush. Paris copies London. Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his own, and commenced a recital of his adventures, which may be briefly told. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step.
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