" So saying, he advanced towards the window, threw open the sash, and called out in the voice of Thames Darrell, "Who's there?" He was answered by a shot from a pistol. “Yes, I believe he is. The flat was apparently empty. From midnight until morning he was now left alone. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. Mr.
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