‘You will like to marry me, yes?’ she pursued. Husbands and wives, young lovers, and mothers with strollers thronged in the streets, all savoring the fine cool weather. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. For what indeed does she do? A simple song, no gesture, no acting, nothing. If he had eaten food, this wouldn't have happened. His eyes never left her face. Darting down Field-lane, Jack struck into a labyrinth of streets on the left; but though he ran as swiftly as he could, he was not unperceived.
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