Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. “When can we be alone together?” She asked him, never loosening her grip. " "I know you'll contradict it, Sir," said the widow, looking at Wood as if she dreaded to have her fears confirmed,—"I know you will. " Sir Rowland looked at her for a moment, as if he meditated some terrible reply. And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel.
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