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We had such a pride in you, such hope in you. There was—a service. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. "Your father said so before you," replied Jonathan, malignantly; "and yet it has tarried thus long. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. Nothing, in short, was too extravagant to be related of it; and Jonathan, who delighted in investing himself and his residence with mystery, encouraged, and perhaps originated, these marvellous tales. At least one of them was caught and put away.
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