‘Now I see why you’re marrying this woman, Hilary. She could still feel his psychic presence all around her, and she knew he was thinking of her. I want you. Here, might be seen a poor fellow whose teeth were knocked down his throat, spluttering out the most tremendous menaces, and gesticulating like a madman: there, another, whose nose was partially slit, vented imprecations and lamentations in the same breath. Still, her face never betrayed this distraction. Neither did his interest,—which was by no means inconsiderable,—nor his general popularity, procure him the preferment he desired. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane.
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