Mr. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. "I am only fit for such as him. " "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. Now if she sent fifteen pounds the suggestion that she had spent a five-pound note in the meanwhile would be irresistible.
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