" The spinster's face actually became warm. Pottiswick’s daughter found her tongue. Closing the door, Jonathan next produced his lantern, and, hastening towards the window, undrew a bolt by which it was fastened. "I am. Holding the lamp over her rigid but beautiful features, Jonathan, with some anxiety, placed his hand upon her breast to ascertain whether the heart still beat. "Ah! Quilt Arnold, my man, is it you? By the powers! I'm glad to see you. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore.
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