‘But don’t let me stop you from going to see Charvill. "What do you think of your nephew, Sir Rowland?" whispered Jonathan, who sat with his back towards Thames, so that his features were concealed from the youth's view. Spurlock lay with his head on his arms, asleep. He had saluted her with elaborate civility, his eyes distended with indecipherable meanings. " She showed him the locket; and he studied the face.
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