Jack had been touched in the morning, but he was now completely prostrated. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. There was nothing of the phenomenon in this. If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. The blast shrieked, as if exulting in its wrathful mission. And the grotesquest fact was that she did not so much loathe, as experience with a quite critical condemnation this strange sensation of being kissed.
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