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"Enough," said Jack, recovering his composure. “A silly little priestess who knew nothing of life at all until she came to you. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. You must remember, you've just begun to read; you haven't any comparisons. There ends my duty. The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. . “Of course he may merely have been telling her who we were, but I think it improbable. "Where did you pick it up?" "I believe I told you; at Yale. It seemed intolerable that she should go home and admit herself beaten. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road.
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