She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death. Think if your own mother was alive!” He paused, deeply moved. Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. Just one thing more. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. " "It is a diamond," said the lady, in an agony of distress,—"the child!" "A diamond! Here, take the kid," cried Blueskin, slipping the infant adroitly under her scarf. Now, Sir," he added, turning to Jonathan, as Sir Cecil and his followers obeyed his injunctions, "you say you know the road which the person whom we seek has taken?" "I do," replied Jonathan.
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