” “You will shake hands with me, please,” she begged. "Before either of you go, you will ask my permission," said Jonathan, coolly. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. "Have you sent off the note?" inquired Jack. Nothing has been touched since. He never asked questions; he never addressed his companions; and frequently he took off his cap and wiped his forehead. He took her fingers and lifted his eyes to hers.
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