" "You're strangely superstitious, Sir Rowland," said Jonathan, halting, and looking steadfastly at him. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. " "Never mind it, my dear Mrs. " "Farewell, Jack," cried twenty voices.
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