What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. '—'It's not to be thought of,' says I, thumping the table till every glass on it jingled; 'and I know a way as'll prevent it. "Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content.
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