"Miss Enschede—such an odd name!—are you French?" "Oh, no. " Pain was stabbing him, now here, now there; pain was real enough; but he could not establish as a fact in his throbbing brain the presence of his aunt in the doorway. “Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City.
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