Return, I implore of you, to your master,—to Mr. Tomorrow you will feel like a freed woman. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. No trouble will ever come to your sister through me. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. Oh, you must believe me. " "And perish upon the gibbet," rejoined Jonathan contemptuously.
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