Enveloped in a large cloak, Sir Rowland stalked into the room, and took the seat assigned him; while the Jew, who received a private signal from Jonathan, set down the link near the entrance of the Well Hole, and, having made fast the door, crept behind one of the cases. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. Brendon,” she said, “if I could ask for advice, or borrow money from any one, I would from you—there! But I cannot.
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