Arrived at his habitation, Jonathan knocked in a peculiar manner at the door, which was instantly opened by the grim-visaged porter just alluded to. "Come Bess,—no whimpering. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. “You are in trouble,” he said. Something or other—she did not catch what—he was damned if he could stand. Though the starling was more than two feet above the level of the water, he alighted with his little charge—which he had never for an instant quitted—in safety upon it.
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