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. The doctor nodded to him curtly. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. ” He drew a little nearer to her. I have a big breakfast. "I don't know," she answered vaguely.
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