But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. She remembered Taber's hat. ‘And I do understand. ” He replied solemnly, looking straight into her eyes. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket. As he passed along the main thoroughfare, he heard his own name pronounced, and found that it was a hawker, crying a penny history of his escapes.
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