Life is morality—life is adventure. I tell you what, Mr. His clothes had evidently seen some service, and were plentifully begrimed with the dust of the workshop. He was pretty successful in Manchester,—a town which may be said to have been the head-quarters of the disaffected. He would come swiftly to her aid, she knew it. I don't think. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. She shut her lips hard, her jaw hardened, and she set herself to struggle with him.
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