I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. ‘Aha,’ grunted Gerald with satisfaction, squinting up at the two open shutters on the second floor. ” Sir John’s reply was incoherent. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. " "Whom do you mean?" demanded Jackson. .
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