I jumped then—I was not even shaken. Lucy saw it happen as if in slow motion. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. “Mine is a primitive and unstudied manner. "Why does she weep?" Ruth wanted to know. " "Be pleased, then, in future not to let your surprise find vent in words," rejoined Jonathan, sternly.
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