Ramage pursed his rather loose lips and shrugged his shoulders, with his eyes fixed steadily upon her. She could not see what occurred, though she guessed it; but she saw Jonathan's devilish triumphing glance, and read in it,—"Your son has committed a robbery—here—in these holy walls—he is mine—mine for ever!" She uttered a loud scream, and fainted. "Does your father doubt it? Speak! tell me!" Winifred made no answer. But you must allow me to observe, my good Sir, that you're wholly in the wrong respecting my friend. I offered myself as a clerk, as a milliner, as a shop girl.
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