With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. . I was one of the few. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned. As soon as he was gone, Jonathan went up stairs to the audience-chamber; and, sitting down, appeared for some time buried in reflection.
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