I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis. I'll tote it myself. Ramage pursed his rather loose lips and shrugged his shoulders, with his eyes fixed steadily upon her. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. .
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