You know—I worship you. CHAPTER I. elizabethbailey. I'm in a funk," Spurlock confessed. "Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. Anna merely glanced at the coarse, flushed features, and at once shook her head. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men.
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