He parried without apparent effort. I have brought disgrace upon you, and I haven’t been the right sort of wife at all. To find the incentive! But how? Thither and yon the idea roved, seeking the way. Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. She accomplished it with the aid of the young fellow’s hand, and stepped down into the road, glancing up at the house as she did so.
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