So, very carefully, he raised her in his arms and carried her to her bed. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. Auntie has taken the nails out of my palms, but the scars will always be there. Kneebone. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that.
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