“Eight, Cavendish Square. A pane of glass was shivered by each stone. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. ‘I have only borrowed it. He thought rationally; that is to say, he thought clearly, as a child thinks clearly. My reply to all of them has been the same. Even, I do not mind to study this Latin so abominable. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. The girl nodded sagely.
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