Still, his conscience was partly satisfied. Remarking that they struck off at a turning on the left, he took the same road, and soon found himself on Paddington-Green. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. His feet would have the firm texture of his hands. ’ Lucilla eyed him with one of those particularly feminine looks it was difficult for a mere male to interpret. “That is as you will,” she said.
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