Well, I shall be sorry to lose him, Mr. . Not that he deliberately courted danger; it was rather the searcher, seeking analysis, the why and wherefore of this or that invading emotion. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. He's worth a dozen of you. He turned his back on that temptation. He was continually dramatizing the future, anticipating the singular role he had elected to play.
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