“What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him. I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. " So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate. "Do you think I would take a harlot to my bed, if it didn't suit my purposes to do so?" "He says right," replied Mrs.
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