She too at once developed an anxious interest in the street outside. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. Jonathan's wicked threat is fulfilled at last. "Your voice seems familiar to me—and—but I'm getting a little deaf—and my eyes don't serve me quite so well as they used to do, especially by this light. What was his astonishment to recognise in the few words they uttered the voices of Kneebone and Winifred! The latter was apparently in great distress, and the former seemed to be using his best efforts to relieve her anxiety. She complained of the crowded cities, dismayed that the people were repopulating them like rabbits.
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