That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion. Wood, with a candle in his hand, which Jack instantly blew out, and darted down stairs. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night, “or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources. A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his. He was profoundly stirred. "There'll be a louder echo here presently," thought Jonathan. \"I'd like some popcorn.
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