When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. "Stay!" said Jonathan, aiding his descent; "you had better take my lantern. Have I your final answer?" "You have, Sir Rowland," she answered, in a feeble tone, but firmly. She looked at the suitcase sadly and stashed it underneath her bed. ‘To the contrary, I will have you to know something. I shall count it a privilege.
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