" "It matters not who I am," replied Jonathan, taking the money. I don’t care. This is clear over my head. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. " "My writing! no such thing!" ejaculated the lady, casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper.
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