” She leaned against the back wall of the place, sinking slowly. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. She could not analyse what was stirring in her: the thought of losing the doll, the dog, and the cat. “There’s the classes,” said Constance, the well-informed. She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. Slowly descending Snow Hill, the train passed on its way, attended by the same stunning vociferations, cheers, yells, and outcries, which had accompanied it on starting from Newgate.
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