He continued his ditty, in spite of the angry glances of his leader. Sydney Courtlaw—Mr. Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. "You are, Sir," thundered Jonathan; "and, unless you find him, you shan't hold your place a week. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. ‘I’ll handle her better alone. .
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