"Cease your confounded clutter!" said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. ‘I suppose you think I can’t manage it myself,’ had complained Captain Roding sarcastically. She had decided that she would begin with her pearl necklace. “You mustn’t talk any more,” he said, “but I want you to listen to me just for a moment. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly.
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