This one was Henry Esmond, that one the melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any villains. He had become an extremely handsome man, his hair having darkened and his shoulders having realized their full size. I asked you to go. The lady's name's engraved inside, but so small I can scarcely read it. ‘If you’ll have the goodness, missie, to move yourself out of the way,’ he said aggrievedly, ‘and let us at him, we might have a chance of doing just that. A sudden knock at the door startled her.
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