The crowner's 'quest sat on her yesterday—and if she hadn't been proved out of her mind, she would have been buried at four lane-ends. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. "Don't speak ill of him behind his back, father," interposed Thames. Ah Cum presented his black-bordered card to such individuals as seemed likely to require his services.
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