Twice Spurlock went to Copeley's—twenty miles to the northwest—for ice and mail. It’s a beautiful plant, but a tender one. She was certain he would hear, sleeping in the nearby castle. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. I have plenty of money, and the Duke will not be in the next Cabinet. She liked the animated eagerness of his manner. “It’s precious unromantic. “Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame.
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