He “went in” for microscopy in the unphilosophical Victorian manner as his “hobby. Even in his fevered hours, so the girl had said, his tongue had not betrayed him. But oh, how weary I am! I know. She were that miserable. How can you protect me? Moreover, it is stealing that you have done, and therefore—’ ‘Don’t tell me you expect me to arrest myself again. But the girl stood outside the circle of Ah Cum's knowledge—rather profound—of human impulses. It took my breath away.
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