At last his voice came to release her tension. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. His voice had broken. I felt somehow I’d hurt you. Having secured this implement, he burst from his conductor, and, leaping into the hatch, as clowns generally spring into the clockfaces, when in pursuit of harlequin in the pantomime,—that is, back foremost,— broke into a fit of loud and derisive laughter, kicking his heels merrily all the time against the boards. “She’s going to have some sort of meal with the Widgetts down the Avenue, and go up with them. Edgeworth Bess and Poll Maggot are dying to see you. It is very sweet of you to have waited for me.
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