" "Could I credit your wild story, I might do so," returned Thames, with a look of perplexity. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. " Jonathan made no reply, but ordered his myrmidons to drag the prisoner along. Besides, I don't think he's going to ask, if that is what you are getting at. She opened her eyes. Pshaw!" added he, making an effort to subdue his emotion, "I can't leave you in this way.
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