She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. Anna, who had thrown aside her sealskin coat, wore a tight-fitting walking dress of some dark shade. But that still left the forty pounds!. “I do not think that he is quite dead. ‘She’s gone. "Hurrah!" shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it was in view.
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