The rich, heavy food sat in her stomach like so many soft pebbles. . The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. When the carpenter concluded his recital, Jonathan was for a moment lost in reflection. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. ’ ‘Why should you care?’ demanded Roding, exasperated.
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