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After some time they left the clay road and rattled again over

rough-paven streets. Most of the windows were dark, but now and

then fantastic shadows were silhouetted against some lamplit

blind. He watched them curiously. They moved like monstrous

marionettes and made gestures like live things. He hated them. A

dull rage was in his heart. As they turned a corner, a woman

yelled something at them from an open door, and two men ran after

the hansom for about a hundred yards. The driver beat at them

with his whip.