He was indeed still in the throes of his bewilderment. He seemed too noisy. "I'm sure little Jack has but one friend beside myself, in the world, and that's more than I would have ventured to say for him yesterday. " "Come along!" cried Jack, darting through the door. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. It came with an extreme effect of re-discovery, a remarkable novelty. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes.
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