Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. " So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate. Kneebone. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. “Nice sleeve,” she said, and came to his hand and kissed it.
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