The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. " "How did you escape?" asked Sheppard, who, as he shook off his slumber, began to recall the events of the previous night. Sheppard, faintly. What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise.
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