C. It was cramped even at the end of the passage. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. After all, what can it matter? It was just to make sure. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. They embarked upon an open and declared friendship. He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold.
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