” And then he speculated. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. ‘Can you not open it?’ she cried. ‘How so?’ he asked, and she noted that he allowed his pistol to dangle a little from his fingers. ‘Lover’s tiff indeed. Unless he has dealings with the devil, he could never have done this alone.
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