Something like a snarl crossed his face, and ignoring the pistol, he moved forward, seizing her shoulders. "I'm glad to hear it, that's all," he added, taking out his snuff-box, his never-failing resource in such emergencies. Half an hour's labour, during which he was obliged more than once to pause to regain breath, sufficed to make a hole wide enough to allow a passage for his arm up to the elbow. "I swear it," rejoined Jonathan, readily. So, not exactly hopefully but earnestly, she returned to the feet of God.
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