"It's the skull of a rebel," said Jonathan, with marked emphasis on the word, "blown by the wind from a spike on the bridge above us. "Never mind," replied the tapstress. She and John were able to see each other many times and spent long romantic winter afternoons together. Let us walk about. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth.
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