‘You see,’ he pursued blandly, ‘I lead a life of the most intolerable boredom. . In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. He hated horizons. It’s just to feel—one owns one’s self. No tricks would serve. " "By my soul, no," replied Jonathan, with affected sincerity. ” She said mournfully.
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