We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. " "You cannot help yourself, Sir Rowland," replied Jonathan, contemptuously. ’ ‘I’m that sorry, miss,’ Kimble said glumly. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself.
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