The hansom drove off. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. " "On my soul, Thames, you wrong me!" replied Jack, passionately. Her face expressed nothing. ‘No, I do not go back. Thus, all her interest in life began to centre upon the patient, who was apparently quite as anchorless as she was.
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