The overnight nervous strain began to tell; she became inattentive to the work before her, and it did not get on. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. "Yes, now," rejoined the infuriated dame; "perhaps, I may never have another opportunity. While this was passing, Jonathan opened one of the upper windows, and fired several shots upon the assailants.
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