CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. Those lives removed,—and Sir Rowland is completely in his power, the estates would be yours—HIS! if he were your husband. There was the stile on which Jonathan had sat, and he recollected distinctly the effect of his mocking glance— how it had hardened his heart against his mother's prayer. ‘What?’ Roding snapped, coming quickly to tower above the window seat.
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