It was five o'clock and a very dull, dark afternoon in Charlton Street. One by one lights had twinkled out in all the little two-story-and-dormer-windowed houses on the block,—in all but one. The parlor windows of this house were still unlit, but behind the flower-box in one of them a hand could be seen moving aside the white curtains at frequent intervals and a dim face peering anxiously into the dusk.

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