A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. Then he took the pulse. “Excellent fellow!” he answered a little irrelevantly. Instinctively she had fallen into the posture of the poster, her hands behind her, her head bent slightly forward, her chin uplifted, her eyes bright with the drollery of the song. After all there are other things. They were familiar but more massive.
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