Like most officers, he’d had it especially made, for a man who loved danger had need of a precision instrument of defence. “Your teeth are chattering! I’ll make you some hot chocolate!” Cathy cried. Towards night, however, he ventured out, and walked on towards London. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit.
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