"What do you think of your nephew, Sir Rowland?" whispered Jonathan, who sat with his back towards Thames, so that his features were concealed from the youth's view. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. “It isn’t objections exactly. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. ‘Now, madame, tell me all about your life in France.
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