Mrs. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. But if I escape, my gratitude—" "Pshaw!" interrupted Jonathan, scornfully. But he looked back into the hall and spoke to the sergeant who could just be seen behind him. Mr. This also struck her as odd. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls.
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