I was ready to wager that your name would have marched with one of them. "No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. "This locket," he said, taking a little ornament attached to a black ribband from his breast, and giving it her,—"do you remember it?" "I do—I do!" cried Winifred. Anna raised her eyebrows at the sight of him. Bowing to the stranger, the woollen-draper very politely requested to know his business.
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