"Keep off, you accursed jade!" roared Jonathan, "—off, I say, or—" And he struck her a violent blow with his clenched hand. Mere hangers on. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief. Well, I shall be sorry to lose him, Mr.
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