The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. "We have him!" cried Jonathan, hurrying down the steps. Arrived at Paddington, he struck across Marylebone Fields,—for as yet the New Road was undreamed of,—and never moderated his speed until he reached the city. He made this simple classification of a large and various sex to the exclusion of all intermediate kinds; he held that the two classes had to be kept apart even in thought and remote from one another.
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