"No, Sir Rowland," replied the attendant, "as you proposed to ride to Saint Albans to-night, I thought you might choose to see him yourself. Supper was over. The houses overhung in a frightful manner, and looked as if the next gust would precipitate them into the river. She seemed to grow more beautiful to him and not the opposite. “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please.
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