" "A terrible dream, indeed," said Jonathan thoughtfully. God only knows what I have done, or left undone. “Oh, you can act!” she cried. ‘And I do understand. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature.
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