She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. The stranger started at the touch, and spoke. "Never throw away a chance," thought Jonathan. If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper.
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