She feasted reluctantly, partly out of wonder at the new function of her often elongated canines. "You know my motive well enough," answered Jonathan. ” She gestured to an abandoned farmhouse down a long stretch of icy dirt road. It isn't as if he were stricken with typhoid or pneumonia or something like that. No umbrella either, the sky was delightfully overcast. " Not a little perplexed by the mysterious object she had seen, Rachel left the room, and, shortly afterwards returned with the materials of a tolerably good supper;—to wit, a couple of cold fowls, a tongue, the best part of a sirloin of beef, a jar of pickles, and two small dishes of pastry.
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