‘Well, shan’t I come to the major’s house up Stratton Street, sir?’ ‘I’ll give the major your report, Trodger. \" Lucy lied. He looked at her with an expression of comical despair. He will say who it was. The roof was partially untiled; the chimneys were tottering; the side-walls bulged, and were supported by a piece of timber propped against the opposite house; the glass in most of the windows was broken, and its place supplied with paper; while, in some cases, the very frames of the windows had been destroyed, and the apertures were left free to the airs of heaven. The will to live had returned. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road.
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