" "Puppy-love. But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called the City of Oxford. Nor can we. "The pocket-book you prigged contained the letters I wanted. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth.
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