Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. "The natives have foolish ways of saying things. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil.
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