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She hurried with Jack as fast as she could to the open door to the passage. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. The original passage, Martha had told her, had led only from an upstairs room to one downstairs. As we turned the corner of the street, I noticed that the electric light was burning in this room. Cased and ribbed with stone, and braced with horizontal beams of timber, the piles, which formed the foundation of these jetties, had resisted the strong encroachments of the current for centuries. Her head ached with a hollow pain. Their journey had made them indolent, the afternoon was warm, and it seemed impossible to breathe a sweeter air. "She considers her future blasted beyond hope.
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