"Enough," said Jack, recovering his composure. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. The floor was strewn with screws, nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy iron fillet.
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