‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. I hope that some day he'll understand how much he owes you. ‘Now I see that you are mad indeed. "Why can't I?" "You will be compromised. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. Don’t try. Upon which Mrs. Mobs were gathered together on the slightest possible pretext; and these tumultuous assemblages, while committing the most outrageous excesses, loudly proclaimed their hatred to the house of Hanover, and their determination to cut off the Protestant succession.
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