"Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout. Amongst others, a person near the door, roused by the shriek, observed a man make his exit with the utmost precipitation. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk.
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