Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. “You heard no pistol-shot?” “None. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. She forced herself not to think of John. There’s the internal factor as well as the external. No pistols, no daggers today?’ ‘Would you have me show a pistol with so many soldiers? I am not a fool. “Umph!” he said, and regarded his letter doubtfully before consigning it to the pillar-box. "What of that," rejoined Jonathan. Look at this ring;—it's a diamond, and worth a mint o' money. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind.
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