” “Then I,” she said, “have too much character. He died in the war. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye—even that of Jonathan Wild who had come thither to deride him,—was fixed upon him. Some shadow of reserve seemed to have crept up between them. "What weight are these irons?" asked Jonathan, coolly addressing one of the partners.
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