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Sir James Thornhill, then, rose. “I think this ends the business,” he said, turning to his sister. “I do not wish to make impertinent inquiries into your private life. 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.
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