Jack seemed glad enough to rest, his back against the wall, and closed his eyes. As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. When they reached her rooms she stepped lightly out upon the pavement. I’m not discussing Shakespeare. Sebastian was always a man who felt the need to surround himself with the trappings of the finer life. Our quarrel's quite over. I wish that it worked. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel.
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