But, when the sound of the carriage-wheels died away, and he felt that she was actually gone, his resolution failed him, and he rang the bell violently. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. He would come swiftly to her aid, she knew it. He was an imaginative young man. "Not my king's," returned Wood. John knew better. "Ah! now we come to business," returned Jonathan, rubbing his hands, gleefully.
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