That's the sort of fool your nephew is!" "Not even a good time!" said the aunt, whimsically, as she stuffed the bills into her reticule. " "Tell him so, and have done with him, Sir Rowland," observed Jonathan coldly. ‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. But I shall take care of Ruth, work for her and fight for her. On your own. Lucy snatched it up and put it in her pack.
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