"I swear it," rejoined Jonathan, readily. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion. ‘What’s more, I wouldn’t blame her. Sir John followed me to London and married me. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. "I've done no more than my duty, Mrs. I won't dig their graves with my nails.
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