The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. Mr. ’ ‘You little fiend,’ exclaimed Gerald wrathfully. “You’d have to think how to get in between his bones. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away.
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