She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. ” “And I may bring my luggage in and send that cabman away?” Anna asked. Jack Kimble. His patient was distinctly of a different order of life.
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