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CHAPTER XIV. I've left mine on the spikes of the New Prison, and must borrow yours. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. Simply because they are hardened by—by bestiality, and poisoned by the juices of meat slain in anger and fermented drinks—fancy! drinks that have been swarmed in by thousands and thousands of horrible little bacteria!” “It’s yeast,” said Ann Veronica—“a vegetable. “No,” said her brother, conclusively, “it’s not for a parent to go on persuading a child.
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