It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. Her hair had begun to grow back, it now swept to her shoulders. The clanking of chains, the grating of locks, and the rumbling of bolts must have been music in Jonathan's ears, so much pains did he take to subject himself to such sounds. "I suppose he'll be on his feet any day now. He cherished her. You can tell me the rest another time. And I have made such arrangements that at my decease tardy justice will be done my injured nephew.
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