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The spikes almost touched the upper part of the hatch: scarcely space enough for the passage of a hand being left between their points and the beam. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. I’m in this apartment and looking for work because—Well, what else can I do, when my father practically locks me up?” “I know,” said Mr.
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