Michelle walked towards the sloping Victorian stairs. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. Not that it would make any difference if he was alive still. Glad to get back, I’m sure,” he said briskly. “He is very kind, Anna, really, and not half such a prig as he seems.
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