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“I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. “Have you any money?” “Lots,” Anna answered laconically. She was always breaking rules, whispering asides, intimating signals. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief.
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