There is worse to come. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. John did not see her until the last period. "Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him.
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