Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. You need have no apprehensions about him, Sir Rowland. No matter. I can't spare you at present. He wore a silk hat a little tilted, and a morning coat buttoned round a tight, contained figure; and a white slip gave a finish to his costume and endorsed the quiet distinction of his tie. He eyed the young couple with the tragic history behind them, and could only suppose that familiarity had dulled their senses.
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