Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. Do you think he'll pay it?" "I'm sure of it," replied Austin. I decided to go in and wait. "My sight is failing me. ” “Out with it, then,” he cried, almost roughly. ” “Don’t be shy, Lucy. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. I suppose I believe in God. His glance came up again and met hers.
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