Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness. '—'Pretty well,' says I; 'you're not badly off at the Friars, for that matter. ” She nodded. ’ Jack Kimble took a deep breath. Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light.
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