Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. " "I do not doubt it," retorted Winifred, scornfully; "because I attach credit neither to one nor the other. “She told you that?” “Yes. “My dear Vee!” Her voice became very low. Whenever she came upon the obliterated word and paused, her father would say: "Faith. I've no doubt he's as honest as either of you. " "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly.
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