It would be downright cruel to disillusion her. But it looked as if the boy was not going to be of much use. Go away now, there’s a good lad. No offence, I hope. "Do not—do not!" "He must!" thundered Jonathan, "or he goes to jail. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. “I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. “She’s proclaimed herself queen of the school. The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm. Pull yourself together, Annabel! I must have the truth.
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