Taking up a couple of large stones which lay near, Jack tried to beat the round basils of the fetters into an oval form, so as to enable him to slip his heels through them. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. " "I can answer that," replied Thames.
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