"Many thanks, Sir," replied Thornhill, with freezing politeness; "but Id not require assistance. "These writer chaps are queer birds. At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. " Quitting the night-cellar, the trio soon arrived at the riverside.
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