" CHAPTER V. "Have you never an out-o-the-vay corner, into vich you could shtow these troublesome warmint?" observed Abraham. ‘I can’t tell you the times I’ve wished for a gun to point at Hilary’s head. ’ ‘But he’s a major of militia, miss. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. Never had she seemed to him so much like Anna.
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