The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. Habits and tastes are no longer the same. ” “I’ll wait, then. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. ” Mr. . "Somebody ought to get hold of that young man," said Prudence, grimly, as she nodded in Spurlock's direction. Mr. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles.
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