Too close, he reasoned, for safety. She rested her head upon his shoulder. Ah Cum presented his black-bordered card to such individuals as seemed likely to require his services. Figg, the noted prize-fighter, from the New Amphitheatre in Marylebone Fields. She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. “For better or worse. "What's that to you?" demanded Jonathan, gruffly. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven.
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