His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. " "In case of need you will lend a helping hand?" "Yes—yes. " "Have I ever broken my word in such matters, that he dares put the question?" rejoined Jonathan sternly.
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