I bent over him. “I am only sorry that I did not ask you to go with me. ’ ‘Who’s bleeding to death?’ demanded Trodger. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. But she could tell by the dullness of his eyes that he saw only some inner vision. One comes at last to the step from dreams to reality. "Bury her in Willesden churchyard, as she requested, on Sunday," said Jack.
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