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“It seems—It’s interesting. ‘What, and miss getting myself murdered?’ ‘She said she wouldn’t murder you. Had to. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets. It’s just because all that side of your life hasn’t fairly begun. They were familiar but more massive. Suddenly, such a shout as has seldom smitten human ears rent the air. As she drew off her skirt she felt something in the pocket, and remembered the letter which the commissionaire at the Carlton had given her. While the watermen were contending with the eddies occasioned by the fall below the bridge, Jonathan observed a perceptible shudder run through Trenchard's frame.
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