“You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. "Not so, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan; "you are my prisoner. "It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year. She touched it, and her gaze lifted. For his own part he could not sufficiently admire the pluck of this lady, who, notwithstanding all that she had been through, had chosen to appear this evening rather than break her engagement. ToC Saint Giles's Round-house was an old detached fabric, standing in an angle of Kendrick Yard. To-morrow, we'll go to the Fleet and get spliced.
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