“There ought to be a Censorship of Books. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. ‘Did it indeed?’ ‘I should think he’s guessed, don’t you?’ ‘Without any doubt at all. Lucy looked about confusedly. He disappeared into its thick doors like a magician’s rabbit. “These are the playgrounds of life. “Anything is better than this—this stifled life down here. "There's the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in front of it. They sat down at the dining room table which seemed empty and 259 huge in the stark, white-walled room. Mike chortled.
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