" "I've had the hard work to do, at all events," rejoined Jack, "But I won't complain. If he dies she is safe. We have only those phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. Gianfrancesco had told her about it, how he had played in it as a child with his brothers. 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. The latter no sooner beheld him than he dashed hastily into an adjoining room.
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