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. We'll have some fun down there at my place, Spurlock; but we'll probably bore your wife to death. “Very well,” he said. After much clapping, they started. A wife formed part of his scheme of life, for several years he had been secretly but assiduously looking for her. "For me—his master, Mr. .
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