The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. Beneath the shelf, containing these books, hung the fine old ballad of 'St. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. " "Your own was equally so," said Jackson ironically. Gosse sneered.
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