‘Aha,’ grunted Gerald with satisfaction, squinting up at the two open shutters on the second floor. Nothing seemed to be amiss. “I do not blame him. Little woman, you have been brave enough before. ’ ‘You should be happy that you are not dead,’ she retorted, but with a diminution of the venom and fright in her voice. Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who wrote novels ought to be strung up. I'll forgive him if he does. "Then I advise you to look sharply after him, Mr. This was what he missed. " "Be pleased, then, in future not to let your surprise find vent in words," rejoined Jonathan, sternly. He returned the locket without comment. CHAPTER II. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. "Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine.
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