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On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. His hot juices coursed into her in quick bursts. "Friends!" echoed Kneebone, with a look of dismay. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. Let’s go on climbing now. Her curiosity was insatiable, her dreams filled with happy speculation over what hair color her babies would inherit. ” She slipped on her cloak and stepped into the hansom with him. ’ Hilary eyed him.
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