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Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. ‘Prudence? This name I have heard it spoken. He must win this man's confidence, even at the risk of being called mad. ’ ‘But where? Where has he gone? Always he goes off, and he says no word to anyone. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him.
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