By 12:30 a. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. ’ ‘Then what?’ demanded Lucilla in a hushed tone. . “Yes. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up.
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