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E. "Not so, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan; "you are my prisoner. She felt a storm of emotion surging up within her. She was perhaps three-and-twenty, and very pink and healthy-looking, showing a great deal of white and rounded neck above her business-like but altogether feminine blouse, and a good deal of plump, gesticulating forearm out of her short sleeve. Of course, it really signified nothing in this careless part of the world that she was travelling alone.

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