Entering London, he bent his way towards the west-end; and having some knowledge of a secondhand tailor's shop in Rupert Street, proceeded thither, and looked out a handsome suit of mourning, with a sword, cloak, and hat, and demanded the price. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily.
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