Gently she raised his head and withdrew the coat from under the pillow. "Iss, Massa. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. ’ The lady sighed and spread her hands. Every word you utter puzzles me. I want you. "Many thanks, Sir," replied Thornhill, with freezing politeness; "but Id not require assistance. She were that miserable. She came in now with an air of reserved solicitude. It’s a sort of home-leaving instinct. What sort of proof? There are no papers at Remenham House. But, perhaps Mr. ‘I have only borrowed it.
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