“You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. "Let me go," cried Winifred. "What's the use of wasting a shot?" rejoined Jonathan, savagely. It was then for the first time she remembered that she had said nothing to her sister of the man in the hospital. She wanted to think. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way.
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