” She muttered some unlady-like comment upon herself under her breath and engaged in secret additions. The servants had left the room. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. There was every indication that she fled the island in company with a dissolute rogue. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. JONATHAN WILD.
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