’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him, Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the garret. The burden of decision had been transferred. ‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. I shan't let you off a farthing.
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