This last operation was so fatiguing, that for a short time he was obliged to pause to recover the use of his fingers. Stanley poured wine. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. .
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