Jack attacked Jonathan with such fury, that he drove him into a shrubbery, and might perhaps have come off the victor, if his foot had not slipped as he made a desperate lunge. "Flight is still left me," replied Trenchard. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. “No lecturing, Anna!” she exclaimed. “I suppose I fell in love with her, Ann Veronica. Only that I was prevented by one of those soldiers that caught me in the big house. “More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. Purney, the ordinary, who had latterly conceived a great regard for Jack, addressed him in a discourse, which, while it tended to keep alive his feelings of penitence, was calculated to afford him much consolation. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice.
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