" "For you!" exclaimed Jonathan; "don't flatter yourself that I'm thinking of you. Marvel was almost dislodged from his seat on the coffin by a dead dog, which was hurled against him, and struck him in the face. There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. I do—with all my heart. ” “You are jealous,” she declared contemptuously. “Not at all.
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