"I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. The streets were deserted as they drove past familiar sites. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. I will not trust you. It is quite light yet, and I want to have one more look at that angry red sun. T. Jonathan kept his keen eye fixed upon him, as he addressed himself for a moment to the Hollander.
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