Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. Jonathan's vexation at the disappointment was expressed in the bitterest imprecations, and he returned as speedily as he could to the trench. “My heart, my dove, I only want to heal you. "A miserly old woman. ‘Parbleu,’ came indignantly from the lady. You'd not know what to do without me, and shan't drive me off. Nothing else was put in their place, and they remained sotto voce, as it were, in his mind.
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