" "Then you will stay!" she cried, clapping her hands joyfully, "for I'm sure he won't part with you. She laughed nervously, but kept her eyes averted. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. It was a mad half-hour. And Lady Trafford having been carried down stairs, and placed within it, the postboy drove off, at a rapid pace for Barnet. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night.
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