I told them lies. "If Jack would come to my house, I'd contrive to hide him," remarked a buxom dame. A riding-habit is all I have seen. “Please call me Carol. Kneebone,—pray go!" implored Winifred. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. But, uttering a loud cry, he was swept away by the headlong torrent.
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