“Vee!” said Miss Stanley, “you hear what your father says!” Miss Stanley struggled with emotion. His revelry, however, was put an end at the expiration of the time mentioned by Jonathan, by the entrance of a posse of constables with Quilt Arnold and Abraham Mendez at their head. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest.
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