" "Stop!" cried Jonathan, who did not care to push matters too far, "let me have a word with you, Mr. I must take you to the Suffrage people, and the Tolstoyans, and the Fabians. I mean—I mean to do what I can. “My dear man,” she exclaimed, “wasn’t that a foregone conclusion?” “You treat the matter lightly,” he continued. . "On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan. Only a book detective could dope this out. He was therefore obliged to use the iron bar, which he did with as much caution as circumstances would permit. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. "Very well.
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