We’ll run away together, we’ll elope. "I might now send you on a similar journey!" replied Jonathan, with a bitter smile, and preserving the unmoved demeanour he had maintained throughout; "but I prefer conveying you, in the first instance, to Newgate. But Jonathan, fixing a terrible look upon him, cried. You are my slave—and such you shall continue. " And muttering some remarks, which we do not care to repeat, reflecting upon the consistency of the sex, he was preparing once more to depart, when Mrs. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension.
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