CHAPTER XVIII. " "I'm no reader of riddles," said Jonathan. " "I'll not go," answered the other. ” She looked at him with curious eyes. ” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. If not, I have plenty to think about,” she answered, leaning back in her chair, and watching the smoke from her own cigarette curl upwards. There was a gallows erected, and a great mob round it—thousands of people, and all with white faces like corpses.
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