He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. ” There was silence between them. Arrived beneath an aperture in the broken roof, he was preparing to pass through it, when he observed a little heap of tiles upon the floor, which appeared to have been recently dislodged. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers.
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