Montague Hill. " "You judged rightly," rejoined Jack; "I never yet broke an engagement with friend or foe—and never will. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. Then suddenly the curtain would fall.
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