The highest form of knowledge was magic: the priesthood. Here, where every element of her surroundings was tawdry and commonplace, and before this young man of vulgar origin and appearance, it was striking. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. Or else—Else it will be impossible that I can be his friend. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. “Yes. I will never consent till I see him. ” He woke the glassy water to swirling activity again, and made the deep-blue shapes below writhe and shiver. " And Blueskin withdrew.
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