"Save him," replied Jonathan. From under his pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk. Here lay a heap of knockers of all sizes, from the huge lion's head to the small brass rapper: there, a collection of sign-boards, with the names and calling of the owners utterly obliterated. Ramage pursed his rather loose lips and shrugged his shoulders, with his eyes fixed steadily upon her. After the first courses however she scarcely noticed him. McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell.
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