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The solemn strokes were immediately answered by a multitude of chimes, sounding across the Thames, amongst which the deep note of Saint Paul's was plainly distinguishable. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. ‘I think you know my affianced husband. ‘We may have to,’ Gerald answered thoughtfully, staring at the window to one side. I have a big breakfast. Nevertheless it was overwhelming. “The Widgetts,” she said. She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern.
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