Her eyes where glassy and shining. That held his thought as the magnet holds the needle, inescapably. ‘Go on up to the boy, my dear. A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his.
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