There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. "And now, Sir," he said, preparing to take his departure, "will you add to the obligation already conferred by informing me where I can meet with Mr. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. “Why did you lie to that man?” he asked fiercely. Yet he’s been here for six years, and he’s as much a fixture as that sham mahogany sideboard. Miss Klegg raised the question of women’s suffrage, and he set himself to provoke a duel between her and Miss Garvice. But here the resemblance stopped. She found she was trembling at his nearness and full of a thrilling dread that he might touch her.
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