13 Montague Street. "I am content," said Jack. It numbered nine, and four of these were women students. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. “That was a moment of madness,” she said. " "And leave you thus?" rejoined Jack. Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified.
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