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Muffling up his face, Jack turned away; but he had not proceeded many steps when he heard a man reading aloud an account of his escapes from a newspaper. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. When night fell, he crept into the town of Tottenham. "A knowledge of the ways of men. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. It consisted, like pre-Roman Gaul, of three parts. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative.
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