White and Miss Ellicot laid each a hand upon his arm, one on either side. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. ‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir. But they were too late. ‘No. You may enjoy your pride, your arrogance—in a coffin. "You are, Sir," thundered Jonathan; "and, unless you find him, you shan't hold your place a week. We shall have—hardly any money. This was his humiliation as well as hers.
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