The place pulsed with music too loud to converse above. "Yes; he'll suspect nothing. ” “I promise,” he answered heartily. "Married!—no—no," replied the woollen-draper. He found the horse where Thames told him he would find him, mounted, and rode off across the fields in the direction of town. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. The girl suppressed a chuckle that would have been inexplicable.
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