“The walk has given me an appetite, and I do not feel like waiting till five o’clock. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. “You needn’t be anxious about that! I shall contrive to live. Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year. I trust you will not accuse me of discourtesy if I express my pleasure that henceforth our ways will lie apart.
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