There is only Gerald to see me, after all. She had followed a bobbing white hat and gray jacket until she reached the Euston Road corner of Tottenham Court Road, and there, by the name on a bus and the cries of a conductor, she made a guess of her way. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. Every drop of blood in her body glowed and expanded. For it cannot be that this Jarvis will leave the house to my father.
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