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I tried it myself, Sir. “It isn’t only the dance,” she said. Such was his fury, that if he had not been restrained by the presence of the two turnkeys, he might perhaps have anticipated the course of justice, by laying violent hands upon his victim. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. Uttering a terrible imprecation, Jonathan snatched up the link, and hastily descended the stairs, leaving the Jew behind him. “Thank you—and good-bye. “And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger.
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