I didn’t realize—I don’t see how I can get out of it now. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. " "It may be; but if it shortens the distance and lightens the journey, I care not," retorted the widow, who seemed by this reproach to be roused into sudden eloquence. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief.
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