. ” “Well?” “Sir John came to me—that you know—and you can guess what I told him. Jack attacked Jonathan with such fury, that he drove him into a shrubbery, and might perhaps have come off the victor, if his foot had not slipped as he made a desperate lunge. He was there concealed, waiting her return. Other phrases returned now, like echoes. "How long will he be laid up?" "Three or four weeks, if he doesn't peg out during the night.
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