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. Having once more got into the chimney, he climbed to a level with the ward above, and recommenced operations as vigorously as before. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. . ” 240 “Then I’ll wait for you.
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