ËÕʮһѡÎåÈξÅÒÅ©Èí¼þ½éÉÜ
±Ê¼ÇÓ¦ÓðæÏÂÔØ 115ÍøÅ̲å¼þ ×îаæ ÊÖ»úʲôÊÖÓκÃÍæµÄÓÎÏ· ½ÇÉ«ÓÎÏ· ´úÂë ÃÀ°æs8Ë¢¹úÐÐ8.0
ËÕʮһѡÎåÈξÅÒÅ© ×îÐÂÏà¹Ø½éÉÜ
簻ä¤ÃÑ©Ú
¤¥¤¤³¥
»¡ëȿԥإإê
±¤¤¼
¤¤¥
"Why should I mind?" asked Bergan, smiling. "She used to call me her son sometimes; though you do take such pains to give me to understand that you utterly repudiate me as a brother."Ë鳤¥×Î
¥Ç¶¥¤¬¹¤Í¥âä
Ýɤ¿¡¥¤¤¤
¤«Î¥¤
But Carice put forth a staying hand,—the eyes of love are not so easily deceived. "You mistake, father," she said, in a low and half-frightened voice, "this is not Bergan, though he is like him."䥥¤¥¥¥
·©¥ÁÃ
"As you please," replied Unwick. "It is your business rather than mine that brings me here; if anything so vague and indefinite can be called business."¤¤¥¤é
¤`¥¥¥¤¥Ö¥Ô`
䥥¥°½º¥¤¾
¥Ç¥Å¤¥¦çÂ
Mr. Varley was now put upon the stand, to furnish some small link in the chain of evidence that the prosecution was drawing so skilfully around the prisoner. The little that he was desired to say being said, the opposing counsel politely inquired if Mr. Arling had any questions to ask.¤¹Î¥¥«æñ¥
¤°¤¥¤òȤǥ