“I have never yet met a man whose intellect I could respect. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. "Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. Who invented them? Nobody knows. . But—it’s one of the things I’ve just been thinking over. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. But he had now lost the precise spot; and thinking he had examined the drain, turned his attention to another quarter.
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