“Yes, I remember,” she said. “Could you play ‘Fiddler on the Roof’?” father Thomas pleaded. "Back!" cried Jack fiercely: "lay a finger on her, and I will fell you to the ground. They must have a key. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. Nothing, in short, was too extravagant to be related of it; and Jonathan, who delighted in investing himself and his residence with mystery, encouraged, and perhaps originated, these marvellous tales. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. A faint anticipation of triumph showed in his manner and a subdued excitement.
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