Take me to the Stone Room. The estates must, ere long, revert to Sir Rowland. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. In the obscurity in which it was now seen, it looked like a prison, and, indeed, it was Jonathan's fancy to make it resemble one as much as possible. "Not so, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan; "you are my prisoner. To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. If I can’t talk anywhere else—I DO want an understanding.
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