I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. It was not possible. His heir is dead, yes, and his name and title available to me. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. A young man, who had been spending the last hour walking up and down on the opposite side of the way, came quickly over to her. Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them. It never seems to enter their heads to try and amuse their menkind. She said that in the note. Miss Garvice repeated again, and almost in the same words she used at every discussion, her contribution to the great question. "Off!" she cried with a prolonged and piercing shriek. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other.
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