‘It is the life I know. Abruptly, Gerald turned. I do not think that I have the Bohemian spirit at all. One of your aunts died, I believe, and the other removed to London. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. "Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. He might be unfortunate, but he would scarcely be a fool.
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