She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. He heard the woman talking again. " "Risk, or no risk, I shall go," replied Jack. “Earning a salary!” “You’re like a Princess in Exile!” he repeated, overruling her. For a few minutes, she appeared scarcely sensible of his presence. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. McClintock's heart went out to Spurlock; he would always be the boy's friend, even though he had dragged this girl on to the rocks with him. "I couldn't bear to see you in it. "Utterly," reiterated Jack, gloomily,—"as regards all I hold dear. Kneebone and his friends would be glad of a little refreshment. We can love on a snow cornice, we can love over a pail of whitewash.
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