"I'd lay down my life for yours. There was the stile on which Jonathan had sat, and he recollected distinctly the effect of his mocking glance— how it had hardened his heart against his mother's prayer. “I have been training myself to look askance at beautiful things. ‘You are dead, you,’ he yelled back, leaping into the seat of the final pew. " "Never!" replied the woollen-draper; "and if that treacherous rascal, by your side, doesn't make himself scarce quickly, I'll send a bullet through his brain.
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