If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. Kneebone," she added, drawing up her magnificent figure to its full height, and making the heavy cudgel whistle through the air, "look to yourself. Wood a very free-and-easy sort of stare, winked at Mr.
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