3. Darting down Field-lane, Jack struck into a labyrinth of streets on the left; but though he ran as swiftly as he could, he was not unperceived. “It—it—must come,” she faltered. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. When she renewed her attendance at the Imperial College the third finger of her left hand was adorned with a very fine old ring with dark blue sapphires that had once belonged to a great-aunt of Manning’s. Compared to most of America, you’re rich.
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