’ ‘What sort of “down on your luck”?’ asked Alderley. The clanking of chains, the grating of locks, and the rumbling of bolts must have been music in Jonathan's ears, so much pains did he take to subject himself to such sounds. “It was the night you left Paris. She accomplished it with the aid of the young fellow’s hand, and stepped down into the road, glancing up at the house as she did so. Earles that I was ‘Alcide,’” Anna remarked quietly. In doing this, he chanced to raise his eyes and half fancied he beheld, shaded by a pillar at the extremity of the western aisle, the horrible countenance of the thief-taker.
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