He felt the first sting of the whip. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. 13 Montague Street. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. ” Anna shrugged her shoulders lightly. " "If you mean the fugitive, Darrell, he has escaped through the back window," replied Jonathan. " "Shall I tell you a real story?" "Something you have seen?" "Yes.
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