"Not so, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan; "you are my prisoner. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. "Not that I know of," replied the carpenter, who had in some degree recovered his confidence. She turned her eyes to him again, and saw her late friend and pleasant and trusted companion, who had seen fit suddenly to change into a lover, babbling interesting inacceptable things.
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