I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. She opened her mouth and inhaled water. Sharples," replied Quilt; "lock 'em up. The natural gaiety of the place seemed to have affected them both. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room.
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