Like a petulant child he snapped. If I’d meant it, my girl, you’d be dead meat. Yet you can look Cheveney in the face and declare that you do not know him. I tried painting and couldn’t get on. You will obey me out of common decency. His heart beat wildly and he was afraid lest the strain be too much; but the girl shook her head and smiled and pointed to the top of the mountain. Jonathan, however, still lingered. “If you speak—farewell. " The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door.
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