Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout. "Save me!—save me!" "Damnation!" vociferated Jonathan, savagely. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. Sir Rowland," he added, in a deep whisper, "do you agree to my terms?" "I do," answered Trenchard, in the same tone. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories.
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