Thieves and pickpockets are his constant companions. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. ’ The lady’s gaze dwelled thoughtfully on the half-drawn sword and then came up to meet his, an odd look in her eyes. “I don’t know where to go to. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. CHAPTER XXIII.
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