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He walked unsteadily towards the door. Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. "You," answered Jack, abruptly. “I believe so. "Mrs. Each wing had a small cupola; and, in the centre of the pile rose a larger dome, surmounted by a gilded ball and vane. She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit.
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