Madame shrugged. “They make me want to shout,” said Mr. 2. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. Little things, almost impalpable, had happened to justify that doubt; something in his manner had belied his words. "Odd's life!" cried Gay, in astonishment; "is this slight-made stripling Jack Sheppard? Why, I expected to see a man six foot high at the least, and as broad across the shoulders as our friend Figg. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself.
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