He seemed to be labouring under some great excitement. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church. She expanded that. ’ ‘But it was not your fault,’ protested Gosse, shocked. “She doesn’t know. Here she would find candy awaiting her, bits of ribbon, books. You must wait till supper's over.
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