Who says that I am not Meysey Hill? I was trying to scare you. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. So dreadful were these shouts as to produce an effect upon the hardened feelings of Jonathan, who shrank out of sight. Drummond had made an abominable mistake. " "Poor Jack!" exclaimed Thames.
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