\" His tone was weak and conciliatory. Inquiring for Mrs. Left to Capting Roding, as he told me hisself, you’d be in prison this moment. Sebastian grabbed a rock from a corner and bashed in its skull. He had been for months without music of the character he loved—and he dared not play any of it! McClintock, after the music began, left the piano and sat in a corner just beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street.
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