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As he crossed the cellar, he passed so near to Jack who had concealed himself behind a piece of furniture that he almost touched him. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. For hours he seemed to have pleasant dreams of open skies and airplanes, but then the dreams would disintegrate into fleshy charnel house nightmares where he could hear her calling to him through a fog. I can never be grateful enough. “Don’t befool me any more,” he answered, almost roughly. She would have to leave very soon. " "I hope such a thing never will happen again, my dear," observed Wood, mildly, "but, when it does, it will be time to consider what course we ought to pursue.
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