She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. “After all, there are great things left in the world for you. More than half the city perished. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre. “Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently.
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