” “It is within yours—if anybody’s,” he answered. They were alike in one phase—loveless and lonely. I can’t stand it. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. "I've said it," rejoined Jonathan, peremptorily. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely.
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