“Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones. They crossed the street, and entering the front door passed up the outside stone steps of the flat. Having seen his mistress safe down, Jack instantly descended, leaving the best part of his clothes, as a memorial of his flight, to the jailor. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle.
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