“We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. It is always on his person. I must not let you go again. "I cannot part with him," replied the widow, bursting into tears; "indeed, indeed, I cannot. "Keep off, you accursed jade!" roared Jonathan, "—off, I say, or—" And he struck her a violent blow with his clenched hand.
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