The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. Shotbolt, who had in some degree recovered from the effects of his previous mortification, was thrown into an ecstacy of delight, and could not sufficiently exult over the prisoner. She was surprised at his modesty. She could have traded it for gold nuggets and lived like a queen for a few weeks, but she did not. ’ ‘Where then is your uniform?’ ‘I don’t wear it to balls.
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