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" "Hum!" exclaimed Jonathan. ” He resumed, after a mouthful: “Here is a girl of sixteen or seventeen, seventeen and a half to be exact, running about, as one might say, in London. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. ” “Wonderful! You can teach my son. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. ” There was silence between them. "I've spoken. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping.

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