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“There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. The prospect of the gallows would never deter me from taking to the road, if I were so inclined. “Do you know, I have been wondering what had become of you,” she said. Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. ‘If you are not going to visit Charvill today, I’ll escort you back to the convent in Golden Square. The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. I'll knock off at tea.
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