"What's the matter?" demanded Jonathan, harshly. "That is good. I—I hurt myself. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. "My friends need not fear my return. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead.
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