The last that is known of Monsieur Charvill is when he departed the Valade estate. She remembered him as a dull figure, a big man with a belly that was already showing fat under his fine scarlet clothes. "Are you not that man's mistress?" demanded Mrs. 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. “I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said.
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