She was inclined to think that perhaps for a girl the converse of his method was the case; an older man, a man beyond the range of anything “nonsensical,” was, perhaps, the most interesting sort of friend one could meet. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. Wary they might be. ’ ‘And if she can’t?’ asked Lucy. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. But underneath this tolerance there is always the vague hope that your manhood will someday reassert itself. I must have something in hand.
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