"Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless. "Leave me alone with him a moment," said Jonathan. Her gratitude swelled within her. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands.
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