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‘I don’t want to hurt you any more. " "But not for me," growled Terence, in an under tone. ‘Sit down, won’t you?’ He crossed back to Roding and said low-voiced. I shall never come back. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. As he passed out he saw in the hall a quietly dressed man with keen grey eyes, talking to one of the footmen. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. “Thank you. "Hear me out," said Jonathan.
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