All four people moved a little nervously into the drawing-room, maintaining a sort of fluttered amiability of sound and movement. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. “It’s funny, the way a good house feels. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself. I came back to say, that I've placed your nephew in a coach; and, if you'll be at my lock in the Old Bailey an hour after midnight, you shall hear the last tidings of him.
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