‘That’s better,’ said Gerald, and let her go. "Why do you laugh?" he asked. "Here, Poll, help me!" Thus exhorted, Mrs. He paced faster, stomping around. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. ’ She spoke with difficulty, holding down the rising emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. One transgression; he was sure of that.
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