I am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois. She was always initiating petty breaches of discipline. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. "It's like enough, I dare say," rejoined Sheppard. “I do not know any one of that name.
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