"And now, shall we proceed to Queenhithe?" "Stay!" cried the other, taking a chair, "a word with you, Mr. Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other. The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. She heard him come in; the light burned on. He noticed the two chairs close together. She wanted to kiss his feet. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again.
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