"This young fool is come to restore the article—whatever it may be—which Lady Trafford was anxious to conceal, and which his companion purloined. "Because—because I'm always distrustful of a priest," rejoined Jonathan. I don’t play anything. " "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. ‘Lover’s tiff indeed. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness.
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