"It is time!" "For what?" grumbled the latter, rubbing his eyes. She resolved not to allow him or her hunger detract from the performance at hand, as it would be a special one, an evening to be remembered in the gray days to follow like a precious jewel. One or the other. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. ‘You keep a-hold of him,’ Trodger ordered his men. The kindly faced landlady had failed to catch his name, and said he was a tall, handsome gentleman with a great black mustache.
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