" "So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff with the air of a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his gallantry,—"so she was. S. Corbet Kynaston, then? Sir John Packington's courier was here yesterday. ’ ‘What, even less delightful than Gerald?’ enquired Lucilla, her eyes dancing. I may as well think. " "I shouldn't call her queer. I will never consent till I see him.
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