And they could talk, they found; and never once, it seemed, did their meaning and intention hitch. “But I wanted to see you. "You have both," replied Wood, fervently. Well, after all, he seemed to be turning the subject. “What’s that young lady’s name—girl in dark brown, stranger here?” Mr. The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand. He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once.
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