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The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. 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. She passed down the stairs and into the street. ” 243 She felt a mixture of embarrassment, humiliation, and pride well up in her cheeks, flushing them.
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