Well, they’d got to the pheasants, and in a little while he would smoke. Stanley, whose family had been by any reckoning inconsiderable—to use the kindliest term. He did not think of her as a killer, he could barely conceive it. They stood back together and stared at it. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. "Instantly, Hobson," returned Lady Trafford; "as soon as the carriage can be brought round.
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