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Jonathan stepped behind a curtain. I believe that his recovery was considered almost miraculous. On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him. “I’ve gotta go. They are all at prayer at this hour. Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York.
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