" "You'd better hold your peace, my lad," observed Jonathan, in a menacing tone. You've never seen a typhoon, have you?" "No. A young man was playing the banjo. ’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. It’s no good. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son.
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