It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. Oh, you cannot escape from it. It's almost worth while being sent to prison to have the pleasure of escaping. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. ’ ‘How do I know that?’ demanded Jack. It distressed and confused her that the girl should not come to her. But she felt his lax figure become rigid.
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