’ ‘What son?’ asked Roding. —D'ye hear?" Still the widow remained silent. " "What time is it?" inquired Jack. " The air in the narrow street, which was not eight feet wide, swarmed with smells impossible to define; but all at once the pleasantly pungent odour of Chinese incense drifted across the girl's face, and gratefully she quickened her inhalations. The original passage, Martha had told her, had led only from an upstairs room to one downstairs.
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