Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. "'Sblood! what's this!" cried Jonathan, in the utmost surprise. ‘In the bookroom, sir,’ answered the man, his eyes round as they took in the furious beauty at the visitor’s side. "Something's wrong. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain. The light fell upon the fugitive, who stood before him in an attitude of defence, with the child in his arms.
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