His literary instincts were reviving. It has been only the sort of nonsense which passes lightly enough between half the men and women in London. And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. The uproar was tremendous—men yelling— dogs barking,—but above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan, urging them on. ’ She turned, her eyes narrowed. ‘And I wouldn’t be no sort of a man if I’d heard what I heard, and gone off and left you.
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