With the extra seventy-five pounds she had put after birthing her final son, Steven, her knees weren’t in good shape to be running up and down stairs all day. The Master of the Mint, in the exercise of his two-fold office of governor and publican, was mounted upon a chair, and holding forth to his guests in a speech, to which Mrs. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. Three more people came to meet them at the door.
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