They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness. Closing the door, Jonathan next produced his lantern, and, hastening towards the window, undrew a bolt by which it was fastened. Somewhere you may stumble upon a clew to his identity. Don’t you think that the shade of my hair is lovely?” “There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it.
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