I could not dream of loving you. "Who's that queer cove in the full-bottomed wig?" "Attend to me, sirrah," rejoined Wild, sternly. I wish nothing at all from them. His lips parted in a rare smile. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. "No," replied Jonathan, "I'll not take you at your word, as regards the latter proposition.
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