The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. ‘Leave it, imbecile. “Don’t think that I have been playing the spy upon you,” he continued. This discovery made, I hastened back to London to offer you my hand, but found you had married in the mean time a smock-faced, smooth-tongued carpenter named Sheppard. Three a week is my allowance, and, if I get short ones, four. ” Sydney looked at her doubtfully. ’ ‘A pretty tale.
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