He had not taken many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. ” Lucy said. As we turned the corner of the street, I noticed that the electric light was burning in this room. An immediate halt took place.
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