‘Still, the comtesse has them well in hand. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. As far as I can, I belong to them all. Jack's heart was too full to allow him to derive any pleasure from this scene; so he strolled on without raising his eyes till he arrived at Kensal Green. Why do you think I’m indulging in all this very un-English love talk?’ ‘But you are idiot, Gérard. F.
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