He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. Yes, very well. Raising him in his arms, Jonathan passed the rope round his body, and in this way the poor boy was drawn up without difficulty. “I won’t pretend,” he said, “that this is an accident. Detention was merry for the other detainees. Why aren’t you folded up clean in lavender—as every young woman ought to be? What have you been doing with yourself?.
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