People of your sort—I don’t want the instincts to—to rush our situation. Before Jonathan followed he turned to face his assailants. Suffer me to precede you. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. I want you to be my lover. Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend.
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