"What's the use of wasting a shot?" rejoined Jonathan, savagely. Fear nothing. His fingers slipped under the collar of her linen shift and he tore it open with a swipe. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. “They are coming past our table. Silence! Then Anna clutched her companion’s arm. We two. " "What?" he barked.
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