Darrell stopped, and drew his sword. The fibre of his soul had to be tested, queerly, to make him worthy of you. And it’s no good pretending there is one when there isn’t. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. 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. He kissed her lightly on the lips.
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