” He saw her into the train at Waterloo, and stood, a tall, grave figure, with hat upraised, as the carriage moved forward slowly and hid him. Their heads touched again, their arms tightened. . “He will find it difficult no doubt to alter his style of living,” she said. His food lay untouched about his plate. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. "Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. Montressor’s guests.
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