‘Oh my God,’ uttered Gerald in some dismay. We must wave our hands at the blue hills far away there and go back to London and work. " "I don't care for that," replied Jack. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. "No; we never had one; at least, I never saw it.
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