"Not exactly," answered Jonathan, drily. It was his heart. He stuck to the shop as long as it was necessary, and longer, in my opinion. He could neither stifle nor deaden that. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight.
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