” He shook her diminutive hand. " Mrs. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. If I were a clean, free man—We’ll have to talk of all these things. But men are so careless, there's no trusting anything to them! However, I must try to brazen it out. "No, I shan't," replied Rachel, saucily. In this way, they reached Holborn Bridge. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel.
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