Lights gleamed from the lower rooms, and, on a nearer approach to the building, the sound of revelry might be heard from within. Perceiving he was about to take leave, Kneebone ventured to ask whom he had had the honour of addressing. “I’m not going to college, John. He sounds to me like a soldier of fortune. "Leave the room," interposed Kneebone, angrily. " "Prolonging the misery.
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