"Now, Mr. She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. “Oh, dammit!” he remarked, “dammit!” with great bitterness as he faced it. Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. ‘I dare say the best plan will be for me to bring her to see you, after all. In the end, resolution triumphed, as it was sure to do, over the weaker emotions, and he laughed at his fears. He was not Meysey Hill, but an Englishman of business, and he had only a small income. " Pain was stabbing him, now here, now there; pain was real enough; but he could not establish as a fact in his throbbing brain the presence of his aunt in the doorway.
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