"I've said it," rejoined Jonathan, peremptorily. If one wants a thing very much, perhaps one is inclined to think one can’t have it. 55 <7> THE MANOR, 1349 They moved to the country manor in the autumn of 1349, when plague was still raging through the city. I can be that man, the one I know you want. In a second the glass lay shattered upon the carpet. You might trust me with the Chevalier himself,—I'd never betray him. . ’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room.
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