" "You shall be treated according to your deserts, then," said Jonathan, maliciously. Her knees almost sank beneath her as she raised the latch of the front door and looked out. " "And why not, old saltwater?" inquired Ben, turning a quid in his mouth. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. “Morning, Mom.
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