"There's another instance of your wilfulness and want of taste. "Your servant, Sir Rowland," said the stranger, ducking his head, as he advanced. Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand. A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat. Yet she held her tongue. I had not been near the Royal Society since—since you disgraced me.
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