The Leads. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. "Hell's curses!" muttered Jonathan between his teeth; "that fool will ruin all. You have somewhere to go to in London, I hope. He did not write this with lead but with his heart's blood. He suddenly realized that he could not keep you for ever in this part of the world; so he sends you to your aunt.
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