Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. She found presently she was out of the dock and confronted with the alternative of being bound over in one surety for the sum of forty pounds— whatever that might mean or a month’s imprisonment. Over one of the pinnacles of the tower a speck of pallid light marked the position of the moon, then newly born and newly risen.
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