But you shall swing, rascal,—you shall swing. ’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. ” “Heavens!” the lady exclaimed. " "Sir Rowland is dead," replied Jonathan, gloomily. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out.
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