The stranger turned his head at the sound. I'm used to insult as I am to misfortune, and am grown callous to both; but I'm not used to compassion, and know not how to take it. . The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards. When, by slow and toilsome efforts, he had arrived midway, something obstructed his further progress. She walked with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. She was weeping now.
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