The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. “You will not give Sir John any cause for jealousy? You will have no secrets from him except—concerning those things which are past?” “Anna, I swear it!” her sister sobbed. " "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. So she built a shrine. " "And what are you going to do with her, supposing I'm fool enough to take this boy with me?" "Send her to my people, in case she cannot find her aunt.
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