A few seconds sufficed to clear the passage, through which it had previously cost him more than two hours to force his way. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. “Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. You can, too, if you wish. ” “What ball?” The question was rhetorical. Together they made their painful way to the door, not even checking, in the effort this cost both, on what Gosse might be doing. " "And now, father, your blessing—your consent!" cried Thames.
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