“You must pack for me. There, after protestations of friendliness and helpfulness that were almost ardent, he mounted a little clumsily and rode off at an amiable pace, looking his best, making a leg with his riding gaiters, smiling and saluting, while Ann Veronica turned northward and so came to Micklechesil. This one too she read. ’ ‘Gammon!’ burst from the captain, who had just tossed off a glass of Madeira. Twenty guineas, mind.
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