When the carpenter concluded his recital, Jonathan was for a moment lost in reflection. Raymond Plote would only be missed by his mother. " "I'll ring for one," replied Kneebone, rising accordingly; "but I fear my servants are gone to bed. You're a friend of the young man?" "If you mean did I know him before he became ill, no. You have neither reason nor logic. Before you have lived—” He became darkly prophetic. "Read that," rejoined Austin, pointing to the placard. "I give you one minute for reflection.
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