Closing the door, Jonathan next produced his lantern, and, hastening towards the window, undrew a bolt by which it was fastened. “My dear man,” she exclaimed, “wasn’t that a foregone conclusion?” “You treat the matter lightly,” he continued. No matter how often she came across this phase in love stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human beings perfectly understood. “I can’t help saying it,” she said, with the quality of her voice altering, “but I do NOT think it is right for an unprotected girl to be in London alone as you are. and Mrs. He's nice.
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