82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. “Are you speaking to me?” she asked calmly. Sir John felt and looked several years younger. "Devil!" cried the widow, catching his arm, and gazing with frantic eagerness in his face, "how many years will you give my son before you execute your terrible threat?" "NINE!" answered Jonathan sternly.
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