A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. Martin's on Ludgate-hill, and Christchurch in Newgate Street, were also distinguishable. Having watched the funeral at some distance, Jonathan fancied he could discern the figure of Jack; but not being quite sure, he entered the church. It’s—Mrs. ’ ‘Gracious heaven, Gerald! If your dear mama could not drag you to the altar, I am hardly likely to succeed. Here, put it on your finger. At the cost of quite a number of torn drafts she succeeded in evolving this: “DEAR MR. 2. ” “Not in the least,” she assured him.
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