" "It matters not who I am," replied Jonathan, taking the money. "To be lonely! What is physical torture, if someone who loves you is nigh? But to be alone … as I am!… yes, and as you are! Oh, you haven't told me, but I can see with half an eye. Sheila was a stout woman, her bosoms huge, her face 110 wide and square. The cook tried to ply her with spiced meat and fish soup. You have to see her to understand. His glance came up again and met hers.
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