" "Take care you don't fall into it yourself," returned Jackson, with a slight sneer. She went down, feeling rather than seeing the way. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. They sell only their talents, not their bodies; they are not girls of the street. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. Without hindrance—present occupation. . “I fail to see the joke,” Sir John said.
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