"Going to befuddle himself between now and dinner," was the comment of Prudence. "Ah!" he exclaimed, as the painting was turned towards him. ” She said. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. He halted,—looked fearfully around,—stopped again, and exclaimed aloud, "I don't like the job; and yet it must be done, or Mr. Cut to pieces —slashed—bloodied. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand.
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