Lucia had never been so happy, so content. "However, some one must look after the jail; and they're all gone but me. Drink, and no sustaining food. We’d soon cool that temper of yours. " "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire.
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