“I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. While he was thus musing, two horsemen rode past him; and, proceeding to a little distance, stopped likewise. As soon as he was gone, Jonathan went up stairs to the audience-chamber; and, sitting down, appeared for some time buried in reflection. Very well, I give up. Sniveling brats, little fatherless bastards, you should breathe a sigh of relief. It isn't for their sakes, it's for your own. In others, she acts with the speed and surety of the loosed arrow. She was noisy and hilarious and enthusiastic, and her hair was always abominably done. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice.
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