‘Oh, Lord,’ muttered Gerald, going instantly to her aid. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. But finding his hints totally disregarded, he, at length, swaggered up to the table, and thrust in a chair. He must be a sly fox to get out of the Mint without my knowledge.
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