The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. Every one else does. If I don't, you shall clap me in the Condemned Hold in his stead. And, mind! no prevaricating—nothing but the truth will satisfy me.
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