“I heard nothing,” he declared, “and my ears are good. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!' … It kind of terrifies me," said Ruth, looking up, first at the face of her husband, then at McClintock's. I've combed HongKong. "His wife is still living," returned Kneebone, drily. The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue. "He does," replied Kneebone, "and, what is more surprising, it seems to increase. “Indeed, no,” he answered.
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