"Well, you women are forgiving creatures, I must say," observed Jonathan, sarcastically. “Lucy, are you feeling all right?” He asked concernedly. ” Anna nodded. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room.
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