" "I expect no commiseration," returned Mrs. Fate has two methods of procedure—the sudden and the long-drawn-out. Her aunt arrived about halfpast ten, in black and with an unusually thick spotted veil. He made some obvious comments on the wide view warming toward its autumnal blaze that spread itself in hill and valley, wood and village, below. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. Oh, I grew fond of you as the years went by.
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