He resumed his listening. We'll turn the tables upon 'em yet. “I suppose all life is an affair of chances. " "That's the way it goes. Come!” They went out together and he called a hansom. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling.
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