Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. She had once reconciled in her mind that she was happy as long as she had him. ’ He fitted the hat onto her head, and was aware as he did so of her eyes watching his face. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. The stipendiary would have done it all very differently. She looked steadfastly out. ‘But this is altogether a chance of the luckiest. I am always reinventing myself with new styles. ’ ‘That old fool? Why my brother kept him on I shall never know. "By my shoul!" he exclaimed, smacking his lips, "dat ish goot—very goot. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground.
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