And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. ‘Soi-disant? Then he is not Valade?’ ‘How can I know?’ she countered crossly. She was inclined to think that perhaps for a girl the converse of his method was the case; an older man, a man beyond the range of anything “nonsensical,” was, perhaps, the most interesting sort of friend one could meet. ” To which the only possible reply seemed to be, “I’m not coming home. " "A terrible dream, indeed," said Jonathan thoughtfully. He could lose himself for hours at a time. .
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