“We’ve all been mixing our ideas, and we’ve got intellectual hot coppers— every blessed one of us. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise and fly.
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