"Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. She looked around the apartment for other people. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. Cathy sighed. On their left the river, with its gloomy pile of buildings on the opposite side, and a huge revolving advertisement throwing its strange reflection upon the black water. ” She agreed. “It is just a look. .
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