"Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. "His wife is still living," returned Kneebone, drily. Abruptly she got out of bed, smoothed her sheet and straightened her pillow and lay down, and fell almost instantly asleep. He walked with bent head. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. She let Jack go as he passed through the opening.
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