" "On that night, you first met me, love," said Edgeworth Bess, endeavouring to take his hand, which he coldly withdrew. “Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots. " "So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff with the air of a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his gallantry,—"so she was. He had scarcely entered the arch, when the indraught was so violent, and the noise of the wind so dreadful and astounding, that he almost determined to relinquish the undertaking. ‘Her purpose, if you will believe me, is to get herself a dowry so that she may marry an Englishman.
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