‘I disgust you, eh? Very well, then. Stop! we must shut the door, or they'll catch us. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. Now he lay there, a doubled-up mass, with ugly distorted features, and a dark wet stain dripping slowly on to the carpet. "I did not come hither to consult you as to the state of my health, Sir," he observed, displeased by Jonathan's allusion to the alteration in his appearance.
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