“So Mr. Herculis was a port city on the Tyrrhenian Sea not far from where the manor had been. Having made a tolerably good meal upon the loaf, overcome by fatigue, Jack turned into a barn in Stoke Newington, and slept till late in the day, when he awakened much refreshed. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. It's all very well to read him a lesson, and teach him obedience; but you've gone far enough for that. ‘Oh no, you don’t,’ said Gerald in a low tone. But that instinct is severely dampened most of the time.
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