” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. "Try fifty pounds more," said Jonathan. " "That child may be the means of saving me," muttered the stranger, as if struck by a new idea: "I shall gain time by the expedient. She was making it up.
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