There’s no sense in morality, I suppose, unless you are fundamentally immoral. “Ungracious little beast, I call her. ” She shook her head, snapping out of her reverie. “Ass!” he went on, still warming. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. She turned her head away sharply. And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard.
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