How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth. “You were there, were you?” He laughed a little impatiently. A small brickbat was thrown, which struck Jonathan in the face. It was the crowned queen of mountains in her robes of shining white. "Don't leave him, if you're at all fearful, my dear," replied Wood, receiving the little burthen with a laugh.
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