On the way, he hired a chair with a couple of stout porters, and ordered them to follow him. "Are you sure these bars touch the ground?" "They come within a yard of it," answered Jonathan. It mattered not whether she flunked the year as she would soon be gone. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber.
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