I will not be persecuted in this way by you. " "Let me touch you, then; let me feel if you are really flesh and blood," cried the poor maniac, creeping towards him on all fours. ” She looked around the apartment again. “It is very doubtful,” he said. " At this moment, Saint Sepulchre's clock struck six. I really must leave you now. Somebody may be on the watch—perhaps, that old ginger-hackled Jew. ’ ‘Dear me.
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