\"Today's Friday, isn't it?\" Lucy remembered. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. She used his own gun against him, a method that was occasionally cleaner than slitting throats when she got it right. "Hell's curses!" roared Jonathan. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention.
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