This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. "He hears me not! he's gone!" she added, as the door was opened and shut with violence; "something tells me I shall never see him again!" When her father, a moment afterwards, issued from the parlour to ascertain the cause of the noise, he found her seated on the stairs, in an agony of grief. "True," replied Wild. He began shoveling dirt over the bodies. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane.
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