It was a sickening process, and the sucking sound was sure to wake up Ray’s mother. She held out her hand for it, but Gerald smiled. Michelle's home was one of the smaller palaces, made solidly of red brick with charming black shutters and window boxes full of drooping violets. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill.
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