" "Whom do you mean?" demanded Jackson. It was obvious that he had waited for her. Her loneliness was consuming, Lucia. Ann Veronica, who knew her dress became her, dropped a curtsy to her father’s regard. She could not move. Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street.
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