" "If you mean the fugitive, Darrell, he has escaped through the back window," replied Jonathan. ’ ‘No, sister, I know that, but—’ ‘You needn’t tell me. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. “I’ve been thinking—all the afternoon. With this air in our blood, this sunlight soaking us.
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