She felt draggled and insulted beyond redemption. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. She would become defensive—what she did would be the thing that mattered. Sheila was a stout woman, her bosoms huge, her face 110 wide and square. " "I have already hazarded my life in this attempt to save you," returned Jonathan boldly, and with apparent frankness; "this ought to be sufficient answer to your doubts. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child.
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