"Oh God!" exclaimed Jack, in a tone of the bitterest anguish. She dreaded leaving him for the night, but separated herself finally. Thankfully, he seemed pleased the moment he saw her face, which her mother had made her wash for weeks with the pulp of apples, orange water, and 21 extract of borage among other things. "Curse him!" muttered Abraham. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. You skulk in shadows, following an émigré.
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