In Paris, in July, a raging mob had stormed the Bastille, provoking circumspect aristocrats to uproot themselves and take refuge abroad. The cork came out with a loud pop, and Anna could not help wondering how it must sound to the patient little crowd outside. Yield, villain!" "Never!" replied Jonathan. The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist.
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