"Lean on me," said Jack. A coach was also in attendance, at a little distance. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. “Alone, dear?” “Yes, aunt. "Can't you guess?" returned Winifred, throwing her arms about her neck. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. ‘Perhaps she don’t understand English,’ suggested Roding. Melusine cursed herself for his injury.
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