” He was obviously puzzled. "Here, Poll, help me!" Thus exhorted, Mrs. " "You would purchase it at the price of your head," replied Jonathan, knitting his brows. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. Later that night, after she had cleaned herself and changed her clothes, he returned.
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