” Drummond, a few years older, dark, clean-shaven, with bright eyes and humorous mouth, laid down his paper and turned towards Sir John. The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called the City of Oxford. Very quietly, he added, “Oh Lucia, I’m sorry. “We’ve all been mixing our ideas, and we’ve got intellectual hot coppers— every blessed one of us.
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