He jumped back, wrenching the sword away. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. He had heard me sing—the fool thought himself in love with me. "Now come along, Jack. He's down in Patagonia somewhere. That was the only sound he heard. There are some papers I have to look through to-night—important papers. ” She rang the bell, and he waited by her side until she was admitted to the tall, gloomy lodging-house.
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