" "Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some future heartaches. "One of you fly to the market," returned Jonathan; "another to the river; a third to the New Mint. " "Well, well, since you desire it, I'll say no more," returned Wood. A thin line of red appeared in the white neck. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. " "What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt.
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