“I mean to go to that dance! I meant to reason with you, but you won’t reason. I want you to turn me. ” “It’s scandalous, but I suppose it is. “I drink your very good health, Sir John and Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “and I wish you a pleasant journey back to England. Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. A slight cough uttered by Jonathan at the moment awakened the echoes of the place, and was returned in hollow reverberations. “Come this way,” he said. It was a habit of his to talk to himself. Jonathan's wicked threat is fulfilled at last. He took some Oreos from the bottomless supply that stocked the cookie jar.
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