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I don’t suppose you could tell me even the derivation of suffrage if I asked you. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. She calmed herself, breathing deeply. It’s Providence. Mr. Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. Wood in their favour. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. The young man entered into a lively little war of words with a yellow-haired young person near the door. I swear to you, solemnly swear to you, I will save your son's life, nay more, will befriend him, will place him out of the reach of his enemies, if you consent to become my wife. A sarcastic smile seemed to play upon the chief-taker's lips; and abashed at his own irresolution, the lad went on.
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