“Ye Gods!” she said at last. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. " "Have you acquainted him with Lady Trafford's departure?" said the knight, addressing Charcam, with as much composure as he could assume. 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. .
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