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Wood thought them both remarkably plain, but Mr. But not today. While this was passing, Jonathan had ridden back to Marvel to tell him that all was ready, and to give him his last instructions. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. ‘This from a man who calls himself my friend.
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