" "So I perceive," replied Wood. "'Sblood!" cried Jonathan, who had listened to the foregoing conversation with angry wonder, "I've been nicely done here. I will be as silent as the grave. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. It would not be possible otherwise to live in daily contact with this level-eyed, lovely girl without loving her. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical.
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