" "My writing! no such thing!" ejaculated the lady, casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper. ” She had found it on a gray beach along the shores of California in the year 1804. . “The Holy Ghost! The Pope! My mother!” She squealed. "Certainly," replied Jonathan, with the most perfect sangfroid, "I'll undertake to free you from the boy. It would have saved me much circumlocution, and you some suspense.
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