‘You are a born rebel, ma’am, and I can see now where she gets it from. Gosse twisted his body to avoid another thrust, and the heavy candlesticks fell, rolling with a noise like thunder, and falling with a thud to the floor. This fruit was McClintock's particular pride. ‘The cat’s foot, Hilary. Oh God! pardon me. I've already told you I'm about to take a long journey, and it's more than probable I shall never return. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg.
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