" "Don't hurry yourself," said Jonathan, "I'll wait for you here. She meant to leave anyway, or so she would tell herself later. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. Or felt it. Mr. Youth finds it pleasant sometimes to be melancholy. Here and there, a building might be seen with the doors and windows driven in, and all access to it prevented by the heaps of bricks and tilesherds.
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