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He had quite enough to see to and worry about in the City without their doing things. Now she knew why the soldiers had not caught him. She shrugged her shoulders. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. . He donned his winter coat. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 23-09-2024 22:20:42
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