But if I escape, my gratitude—" "Pshaw!" interrupted Jonathan, scornfully. My only love is for my poor lost son. For such of us as pretend to be wise—and we are but fools in a lesser degree—we know that humanity moves onward only by the impellant of fine dreams. Having secured this,—for he was almost famished,—he said that he had lost a hammer and wished to purchase one. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. "Of course," rejoined the bystander, who had just spoken, and who was of a cynical turn,—"the greater the rascal, the better they like him. “One hardly knows—all the time. If ever he requires my services, he shall find I'm not ungrateful. Wood, who had recovered her good humour, quitted the room she bestowed a hearty embrace on Thames, and she told him laughingly, that she would "defer all she had to propose to him until to-morrow. You are just necessary to life for me. But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes.
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