" "Be pleased, then, in future not to let your surprise find vent in words," rejoined Jonathan, sternly. To her, marriage would be a buckler against the two evils which pursued her. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done. "And yet—but it is only part of the chain of ill-luck that seems wound around me. Wood," said the lady bridling up, "my request may, perhaps, have some weight with you. And here you are!” Her aunt opened all the fingers of her gloved hand in a rhetorical gesture.
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