"How shall I get to you?" "My yacht is in the river. " "Oh! how much I owe him!" said the widow, with fervour, "for bringing me here, and removing me from those dreadful sights and sounds, that would have driven me distracted, even if I had been in my right mind. He has been bottling it up all the way from West Kensington. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally.
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