"Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. “Number 13, please, cabman. . “Here’s something rather good,” he said, and with a start and an effort she took his place at the microscope, while he stood beside her and almost leaning over her. She crooked her finger. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. "And now, having got rid of the minor obstacles," said Jonathan, "I'll submit a plan for the removal of the main difficulty.
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