Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. . " "As many as you please, Sir Rowland," replied Jonathan, resuming his seat. She went from period to period exactly as she would have read prose; so that sense and music were equally balanced. Ah, and put him under if he wakes up. Towards night, however, he ventured out, and walked on towards London.
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