Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. Amongst other things, he had just brought down an old laced bavaroy, a species of surtout much worn at the period. I'm not interested in him. ‘I can see why you lost your place, young Kimble. ' That has always haunted me. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. ” He rose from his chair, and walked restlessly up and down the room. "The door's open, and the room empty.
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