That’s all about it. People had started filling the hall: instrumentalists, overly conscientious parents. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. Overjoyed beyond measure at having vanquished this apparently-insurmountable obstacle, Jack darted through the door. But he was not a father one could make much of. I have seen many of them.
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