’ Joan sniffed. Having made a tolerably good meal upon the loaf, overcome by fatigue, Jack turned into a barn in Stoke Newington, and slept till late in the day, when he awakened much refreshed. Manning, Lady Palsworthy’s nephew, a tall young man of seven-and-thirty with a handsome, thoughtful, impassive face, a full black mustache, and a certain heavy luxuriousness of gesture. “I’ve got—I have to tell you this to make myself clear—a streak of ardent animal in my composition. ” She peered at him through the semi-blackness.
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