"Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. At the expiration of an hour, by dint of unremitting exertion, he had made so large a breach in the chimney, that he could stand upright in it. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her. Explain to Sir John our feelings. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. .
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