In vain Wood protested his innocence. ‘I can take care of myself, bête. ‘Even the nuns they say I am like a devil. They're apt to be surly to strangers, but it soon wears off. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. Wood, in equal trepidation. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet.
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