It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. He regretted now that in his idle hours he hadn't hunted up one against the rainy day. ‘But for my dowry, what else? One cannot expect that an Englishman will marry any jeune demoiselle without a dowry. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. Jack fell on his knees beside her. I don’t know why that should be so acutely humiliating. Nor was Jack by any means the only stripling in the room.
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