‘Say then, Jacques, you have followed him?’ she demanded of the blackgarbed footman. " "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. He turned to Mrs. . People shrug their shoulders and call me a crazy socialist.
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