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EPOCH THE FIRST, 1703. He halted,—looked fearfully around,—stopped again, and exclaimed aloud, "I don't like the job; and yet it must be done, or Mr. "Read that," rejoined Austin, pointing to the placard. “Mid-thirties. “No one has a better right than I to be with you. "Stay!" interposed Jonathan. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. .
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