‘Peste,’ she wailed, as Emile dropped to the floor, ducking down. She had often wondered if Hoddy would ever go back to it. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. She moved a little nearer to him. It comes to this—am I to be trusted to take care of myself, or am I not?” “To judge from this proposal of yours, I should say not.
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