“I will not have this slavery. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. Let me say it to you. He moved slightly, and she went on, with a slight catching of her breath: “It’s a bother and disturbance, but you see—” She had to go through with it now, because she could think of nothing but her preconceived words. “It’s—private. " "Decidedly so," replied Edgeworth Bess; "and I'll take this opportunity, while Jack's back is turned,—for he's grown so strangely particular,—of easing him of his snuff-box. " "But Wild still lives," cried Wood.
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