The washerwoman reported that she had seen a man one day riding out for an early morning hunt, but was unsure of his identity. 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 meat was coarse and disagreeably served. Then she called a hansom and drove home. She did not know Mr. " "You won't tell me what he has done?" "If you'll tell me where he's heading. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. But I do think that if a girl is to feel comfortable about it they should start fairly equal. Anyways, we gets friendly and chats each day, and yesterday I mentions about that Mr Charvill, and the maid ups and says that Frenchie and his missus is going out of town to visit him.
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