Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself. “No, he wouldn’t come here of all places—just now. "Your worry is needless. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. "No; it's only a fresh gale," Ben returned: "hark! now it comes.
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