Luckily, Sir James was so much engrossed by his own task, that both the remark and gesture escaped him. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. He heard Rollo's stump beat a gentle tattoo on the floor. And now for the fawney— the ring I mean. " "I don't see how this is to be effected, unless you yourself were present at the time," said Wood, glancing suspiciously at the speaker. " "And never should again, were he mine," rejoined Jonathan.
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