"The Chevalier shall hear of this," whispered the woollen-draper. Depend upon it, there is a place for you—waiting. " "He'll be hanged nevertheless," replied the Hollander, giving his collar an ugly jerk. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. She forbade him to escape to his workshop in the basement during those times, denying him his one and only hobby.
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