"Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. ‘Not kill me, I mean. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. If individuality means anything it means breaking bounds— adventure. " "No fear of that," laughed Kneebone. She was quite unconcerned. " "You would purchase it at the price of your head," replied Jonathan, knitting his brows.
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