Then Ramage appeared with effusion, and ushered her into his inner apartment. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. It's certain. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. He was manifestly exerting his mind for her, and she found herself fully disposed to justify his interest. " "Ay—ay," laughed Jonathan.
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